


turn myself into a gun

by memitims



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, DCBB 14, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2014, Divergent AU, M/M, Minor Violence, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-18 01:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2329814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memitims/pseuds/memitims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detroit was a kingdom of isolation. The city was surrounded by sprawling grass fields, and it rose out of them without any warning, like a mirage in a desert. The war had been terrible, the rest of the world destroyed in a pointless struggle for power, but for some reason, Detroit had stood its ground. In the interest of peacekeeping, the city was divided into five distinct factions, based upon the virtues of its inhabitants. This is the world Dean Winchester grew up in, a world that was turned upside-down by a fallible test, ladies that got shit done, and a fearless boy named Castiel. </p><p>(this is a deancas divergent au.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	turn myself into a gun

**Author's Note:**

> a few quick things:
> 
> i would like to give the warmest thanks to everyone that helped me along in this process - those who encouraged and helped me on tumblr, the past dcbb writers that inspired me to write one this year, the dcbb moderators who work so hard to put this on and keep everything running smoothly, and [dhee](http://deqncas.tumblr.com/) for making me sign up for this thing in the first place. 
> 
> this would not be possible without my beta [bexy](http://hufflepuffdean.tumblr.com/), who helped me out so much with her incredible feedback. thank you!!
> 
> and of course, my artist [steco](http://the-grace-of-fallen-angels.tumblr.com/), who drew some absolutely lovely pieces for this fic. you can find the masterpost [here](http://stefy-coool.livejournal.com/137464.html)!
> 
> lastly, a few notes on the fic itself - this whole thing came about after my parents dragged me to see _divergent_ in the theater and, as happens with most movies, i began to rewrite it in my head as a deancas au. i decided not to read the _divergent_ trilogy and simply base my fic off the movie, although with various elements changed. overall, as much as i struggle with writing things that aren't one-shots, i had a really fun time writing this and i hope you enjoy! :)

_**Prologue** _

Detroit’s dilapidated and empty towers dominated the bright skyline, their insides exposed to the elements, the siding and glass windows stripped away by forces stronger than the humans that had built them. No one ventured into the buildings anymore; the people of the city preferred to stay on stable ground that was not poised to crumble under their feet at any given moment. On the ground, the city was crowded, but at this point, the population was so small that it could thrive on just a few stories of existence. The towers were forgotten. The only life those old skyscrapers saw these days were the fleeting adventures of dark-suited soldiers, flitting in and out of the infrastructure with joyous cries on their lips. No longer did they house offices and meetings and conferences, but instead they served as the eternal playground for the Dauntless.

Dauntless was one of the five factions that had been established after the rubble of the war had been cleared, and the ragged survivors were desperate for any way to maintain order. Leaders rose from the ashes and threw away any past notions of government, deciding that the prevention of future war outweighed everything else. They built a wall around the city, and whether it was intended to keep people out or in, the citizens had no idea. They split the population into five distinct groups, all with important niches in society.

In order to ensure a smooth selection process when children reached the age of sorting, the leaders decided to split the last names of every family into five sections, rotating through them each year. Every kid in the family over fifteen years of age would take a test to determine what faction they best fit in. The following day would be the selection ceremony, where they could decide what faction they wished to spend the rest of their life in.

Erudite was the home of the intelligent, the logical, and the knowledgeable. They strove for innovation, holding onto that small glimmer of hope that society could return to the inventive place it once was, before the world was covered in dark clouds of war.

The farmers, the peaceful, and the kind took to the fields as Amity, working in harmony with their fellow cheerful companions. They lit up the land with their brightly-colored clothes and their smiles. They were the source of everyone’s joy, even in times of tragedy.

Those in Candor valued order and honesty, always telling the truth, even at the most inopportune moments and even if it would hurt. They devoted their time to understanding the truth in everything and preserving a sense of transparency in society.

The fourth faction was Dauntless. Fearless and courageous by nature, they served as protectors and soldiers of society. Those in Dauntless traveled together in dark-suited units, loving the feeling of wind rushing through their hair and the surge of adrenaline in their veins.

Lastly, there was Abnegation, the selfless ones. They lived simple lives, dressed in simple clothes, ate simple food. Abnegation existed to help others, and care for an uncaring world, especially those who did not fit into these rigid groups. Those on the outside were known as the Factionless. They survived on the streets, the product of a world set in strict ideals that allowed no divergence from the norm. Abnegation also controlled the government because of their impartiality and their role as civil servants to society.

Since the conception of the faction system, Detroit had functioned smoothly. For the most part, people knew where they belonged. The system created a sense of unity – at least from a distance. They kept to themselves, only interacting through the government or the selection ceremony. It all worked.

_**Chapter 1** _

Light from the corner window streamed into the small room, brushing sunlight through Mary Winchester’s hair and across her peaceful features. She smiled at her son from her perch in the room’s only chair. Dean was running his hands through his light brown hair, trying to smooth down the short strands. The light also played across his face, illuminating the patches of freckles that ran across his nose and cheeks. Dean’s hands were shaking slightly as he continued, his nerves getting the better of him for once in his life.

“Are you nervous?” Dean could see that his mother was eyeing his shaking hands. He ran them through his hair once more, before letting them fall into his lap, hiding them from her knowing eyes. He took a deep breath.

“Of course not,” he lied. “Were you? For your test?”

“No,” said Mary. “I was scared as hell.”

Dean tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace than anything.

“But I shouldn’t have been,” she continued. “You’ll be fine, honey. I made it through alive. So can you.”

Mary abruptly stood up from the chair and crossed the room, pulling Dean into her arms for a hug. Dean usually pretended to hate when she reassured him this way, but now he just welcomed it. At this point, he was considerably taller than his mother, and he pulled her in tighter against his chest and breathed softly into her hair, swaying together for a few more seconds before he let go.

“Thanks, Mom.” He flashed her a small smile and turned around, slipping quietly out of the room.

And that’s when Dean sat up in bed, his heart pounding in his throat.

It was always the same dream; it had been the same goddamn dream for two weeks leading up to his aptitude test. His mother, very much alive, reassuring him and hugging him to calm his nerves, making Dean ache for something lost and ineffable. Mary had been gone for a very long time, but her absence still weighed down on him like a heavy fog blanketing the riverbank.

Dean hoped that if he squeezed his eyes tight enough, all his fear and grief would disappear. It was an old trick from when he was younger, and his father was gone on another of his monumentally long missions to places Dean had never heard of. He’d miss his mother something awful, so he would climb into his small bed and curl under the sheets, closing his eyes as tight as they would go and wishing that he could suddenly open them and his life would be completely different.

At age twenty, Dean knew this wasn’t how the world worked. John hated that habit of his, and yelled at him the third time he found Dean trying to wish the world away. After all, John had told him that Dauntless did not solve their problems like this; they faced them head on, without fear. Dean had always found it hard to follow the way the rest of Dauntless lived their lives. He seemed to feel more than the rest of them, his heart seemed to bruise a little easier, even if his body did not, and John made sure he hide this from the others.

His father had told Dean throughout his life that Dauntless was where Dean belonged. That if he went to another faction, he would be abandoning the family, and everything his mother worked for. John’s rants made Dean sick. He was terrified of the test assigning him to another faction, leaving him to face the guilt for the rest of his life, but he was also feared that he would end up in Dauntless, doomed to live in a place where he only pretended to fit in.

Parts of Dauntless made sense to Dean. He wanted to protect other people, and save them. But he also wanted to help them in other ways. He wanted to carry their bags and teach their children; he wanted to help out in small, everyday ways, all things that Dauntless had no hand in. That should have been his first clue.

After a lonely breakfast of bagels and cream cheese - his brother Sam was nowhere to be found - Dean made his way up to the roof of a surrounding building for some fresh air. Many roofs across the city were covered in small gardens, both planned and unplanned, and this particular one was full of a wild assortment of tall grasses, weeds, and a small smattering of bright red poppies. The peaceful atmosphere of the rooftops always helped Dean clear his head, so he frequently spent time observing the city below from his perch among the plants, his body slowly relaxing.

After what felt like an eternity, Sam trotted up the steps to the roof, calling out Dean’s name. Sam, at sixteen, was also taking the aptitude test this year. Dean couldn’t take it at sixteen. John was away too much, leaving Dean with the responsibilities at home, he had to look after Sam and he couldn’t risk being placed somewhere else and leaving his little brother alone. He’d decided to wait until Sam was old enough to take the test too, and the Dauntless council had luckily approved his decision.

Sam was considerably less nervous than Dean, for good reason. He would surely be placed in Dauntless, and stay with their father. Whenever he actually showed up.

“We’re gonna be late for the test! Come on, get down from the roof!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” grumbled Dean. “That would be a real bummer.”

“Dean.” Sam sounded truly exasperated. “Don’t you want to find out what faction you belong in?”

Dean sighed. “Of course I do, buddy.” He slowly climbed down the stairs to his brother. “Let’s go.”

They walked, shoulder to shoulder, from their house into the bustling center of the city. Dean continued to fidget with the short bristles at the back of his hair, a nervous habit he had picked up from his mother. Sam saw right through him.

“Are you nervous?”

Dean wanted to shake his head no, to smile at his brother and clap him on the back. He was good – too good – at deflecting things he didn’t want to talk about. But for some reason, this stupid test was a whole lot bigger than the other emotions he had battled with during his life. Some things he just couldn’t hide from Sam.

He nodded. Sam immediately went into helping mode, putting a comforting arm around Dean’s shoulders. It worked, if Dean ignored how ridiculous it was that his _little_ brother had to reach down to do it.

“Relax. Take a deep breath. Trust the test.” Dean desperately wished that he had the same faith as his brother, faith that the test would tell him who he was and where he belonged.

They had reached the center of the city by this point, and they strolled towards the masses of people converging into disorderly lines. In the city square, each faction had a large stone entrance to the testing building, engraved with their name and symbol. Those taking the test lined up with the other members of their current faction. All the factions had their own unique clothing style, meaning that the square was divided into five distinct lines. Amity was awash with bright oranges and pinks, Dauntless was a dark smear against the starkness of the pavement (the other way made it sound like they were all dead or something), Erudite was a sea of dark-blue business suits, and Candor stood out in their bright white clothes. Abnegation practically blended in with the tiled pavement, their drab fabrics swishing around their bodies.

Dean and Sam stepped into the Dauntless line. Dean swiveled around in place, taking in each group of people. His eyes darted from one line to the next, trying to imagine himself in any one of them. Imagining life outside Dauntless seemed impossible, but so was life in Dauntless. It only made him all the more nervous.

“So!” A sharp female voice shook Dean out of his thoughts. “They’re finally letting you take the test, huh Winchester?”

Bela Talbot had directed her statement at the back of Dean’s head, her pristine white heel tapping impatiently against the pavement. He swiveled around and leveled a glare at her stupid perfect face and her stupid perfect hair. Dean wanted to hate her, he really did, but he had a hard time doing anything except admiring her nerve. She was comfortable confronting anyone about anything, and she did it flawlessly and fearlessly. They’d love her in Dauntless, too.

“Hilarious,” Dean shot back. “Aren’t you a little worried about your test results? I heard it usually doesn’t place chronic liars into Candor.” Bela had grown up in Candor, but she was highly notorious for being the only one of them that could tell a lie with a straight face.

“Well, I didn’t realize they assigned Dauntless to scaredy-cats. I can see you shaking from over here, Winchester. It’s just a silly test, what’s wrong with you?” she purred.

Dean rolled his eyes. “The only thing I’m worried about is if Sammy here is gonna fit through the doorway. See, we haven’t been here in a while and he’s a regular giant now, right?” He pointed towards the small archways in the center of the square, laughing quietly to himself and brushing Bela’s comments off as best he could. Sam punched him lightly in the shoulder.

Before Bela could retort, a booming female voice shook the square. A hush fell over the crowd.

“One hundred years ago, after the war, our founders created a system they believed would prevent future conflict and create lasting peace. The aptitude test you will take today will assign you to one of the five factions based on your personality. While we believe the best option is choosing the faction indicated by your test, in order to ensure success within the faction system, you do hold the right at the selection ceremony to choose any of the factions, regardless of your test results. However, once you have made your choice, there will be no changes. Thank you, and good luck.”

Bela glared at them one last time before stalking away towards the Candor line, her heels clacking noisily against the pavement. Dean turned to face forward as the Dauntless line slowly began to march forward into the building. He clapped his brother on the back and whispered a hurried “good luck,” which Sam returned with a smile. Before they entered the building, Dean stole one last look around the square, his mind racing. He ran a hand over his chin, took a deep breath, and steeled his gaze. He was going to go in there and take the test, nerves be damned. Dean would finally know where he truly belonged.

\---

Dean pushed open the door and stared into a mostly stark room awash with orange light. He slipped inside, his wide eyes surveying the scene before him. A dark-haired lady with pale skin was looking down at a small computer screen and tapping away furiously. The computer was hooked up to a padded chair by a tangle of wires. She didn’t even look up when Dean entered the room, so he hovered quietly in the door frame.

“What are you waiting for? Sit down, Dean.” Her voice was soft but commanding at the same time, and it startled Dean. He fumbled his way into the chair, looking up at the woman for further instructions.  
“My name’s Tessa. I’ll be administering your test today. You’re going to be faced with a few situations, and the choices you make in response will determine the result.” Dean nodded, and she finally turned towards him. Her dark brown eyes glittered as she assembled something in a small beaker. Tessa gave him a once-over, her stare so piercing that Dean felt as if she could read all his darkest secrets.

Annoyingly, like everyone else he had encountered today, Tessa also seemed to realize how nervous Dean was. “Hey, don’t sweat it. Ninety-five percent of people get the same faction as their parents. You’ll be fine.”

Dean nodded again. “Thanks Tessa.”

She handed him a clear white glass filled with a light blue liquid that shone in the harshly lighted room. He eyed it carefully, and Tessa laughed at his hesitation.

“Bottoms up, Dean. It’s not gonna kill you.” He raised the glass to his mouth and drank it down in one long sip, squeezing his eyes shut as it burned down his throat. It was goddamn awful-tasting. He told Tessa as much. She just smirked at him.

Dean’s limbs started to feel heavy, his eyes drooping shut. The last thing he heard as the world went fuzzy and the little orange room spun away was Tessa’s soft murmur of “good luck.”

When Dean opened his eyes again, the small orange room was completely empty except for him and the chair he was sitting in. He slowly rose to his feet, looking around the room for something, anything. He had always assumed the aptitude test would involve some questions, not a barren room in the crevices of his own mind.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw a shimmering ripple in the air, accompanied by a loud bark of a dog that made him jump. He turned towards the noise, but there was nothing there except a small glimmer where the fabric of whatever reality this was did not seem to come together seamlessly. The dog barked again, and the sound was a lot closer. Dean backed away slowly, and the invisible dog seemed to move closer, causing his breath to catch in his throat. It snarled, the noise growing louder, meaner, more terrifying. There was nothing Dean could do, no weapons to fight with, no chance of escape from some imaginary being charging towards him, clearly out for blood. So, Dean closed his eyes and sank to his knees, waiting for the beast to barrel right into him. He could feel the hound’s breath on his face, its nails scratching wickedly against the floor, and then it was quiet.

Dean opened his eyes. The hound had disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. He breathed a sigh of relief and rose to his feet. Despite the unsteadiness of his legs, Dean gave a small smile to nothing in particular. Maybe he was cut out for this.

“Dean!” a voice called out from behind him - Sam’s voice. He whipped around and saw an eight-year-old version of his brother standing timidly in the farthest corner of the room. Sam’s eyes were trained on something and they were blown wide and full of fear. When Dean followed his brother’s line of sight, he froze up when he saw that same glimmer of air. Instead of aiming at Dean, the invisible hound was now pointed right at his brother. It snarled, breaking Dean out of his daze. He watched the dog take off towards Sam, and without thinking, Dean sprinted towards it from behind. The hound was fast, but Dean was faster, and he caught up with it before it could cover the last foot it needed to sink its claws into his brother. Dean jumped, grabbing at the air, and he felt himself make contact with the hound and wrenched it backwards, away from Sam.

Before he knew it, Dean was jolting upright in the chair, Tessa and the computer rapidly spinning back into focus. Strangely, Tessa looked panicked, and she reached over to pull Dean out of the chair.

“Get up.” Her cool demeanor of before had disappeared. “We’re gonna get you out the back door as soon as possible, before someone comes poking their nose in here.”

Dean let her lead him towards the door, his mind swimming and woozy. “What?” He tried to get Tessa’s attention, to get her to look at him. “What was my result?” When she didn’t reply, Dean raised his voice. “Hey! What happened?”

Tessa finally turned to look Dean in the eye, and she seemed to have collected herself. She stared at him, and her voice was deadly calm. “You’re going to go home and tell your family that the serum made you sick.”

He shrugged this off. “What was my result?”

Tessa’s eyes flickered downward for the fraction of a second before coming back up to meet Dean’s.

“Abnegation.” Dean swallowed hard, his heart beating painfully in his chest.

“And Erudite. And Dauntless.”

“What?” Dean breathed. “Your results were inconclusive,” replied Tessa. She looked spooked.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Dean held up his hand. “That’s impossible. It doesn’t make any sense. What was my result, Tessa?”

“No. It’s not impossible. It happens in extremely rare cases. Like yours. They call it Divergent.”

Dean couldn’t breathe. His eyes frantically searched Tessa’s, hoping for some sign that she was playing a joke on him, or lying, or _something_. Anything. Sam had told him that everything would be fine, but now Dean was rooted in place by a few simple words. His test hadn’t worked. There was something wrong. And it wasn’t with the test – there was something wrong with _him_.

“You can’t tell anyone about this. Not even your father,” Tessa continued. Dean didn’t know how she stayed so calm and collected. Maybe this happened a lot. Maybe there wasn’t something so wrong with him after all. He doubted it, but at least Tessa’s voice was keeping him steady.

“As far as the rest of the world is concerned, your result was Dauntless. That’s what I’m gonna enter into the system for you. Got it?”

“What am I supposed to do at the choosing ceremony? I was supposed to learn what to do. This was supposed to tell me what faction to choose!” Dean had moved straight on from disbelief to anger. “I’m supposed to be able to trust my result! Not choose between my results.”

“Dean.” Tessa lowered her voice again. “It didn’t work on you. I’m sorry. I know how important the test is. I know that this will make your decision extremely difficult. I’m not sure what to tell you. But you know what?”

Dean ran a hand through his hair. “What?”

“You’ll just have to trust yourself.” And with that, Tessa finally pushed him out the door.

\---

Great. Just great. Dean’s entire world had been flipped on its axis, but the rest of Detroit seemed to continue on as usual, or as usual as a post-apocalyptic wasteland could be. He walked home as slowly as he could, alternating between thoughts of pure dread and the tantalizing taste of freedom that made his hair stand on end. He could actually choose a faction for himself. But at the same time, what if he made the wrong choice? Free will was within his grasp, but so was ensuring that he spend the rest of his life with his family. But even with all the _choices_ he had now, Dean mostly felt nothing but anger.

Anger at the faction system, at the failed test, at the strict boundaries between his family and where he wanted to belong. At the people that had let this goddamned world-destroying war start in the first place. Dean knew it was irrational, but it was hard to be rational when he could feel himself being tugged in two different directions.

Before he knew it, Dean had arrived back home and found Sam and John at the dinner table. It was never silent in Dauntless – Dean could hear thundering footsteps somewhere nearby, and shouting – but around the table, they were all quiet. John smiled nervously at him, but Sam barely looked up. Apparently the vegetables on his plate were more interesting than Dean’s arrival. Dean nodded hello to them and pointed in the direction of his room.

“I don’t feel great, is it alright if I go lie down? I’m not really hungry,” Dean asked quietly. He silently hoped his brother would look up at him; he needed to make sure that Sam was okay, and a look from Sam always seemed to calm him down when Dean was too angry to think.

Sam didn’t look up.

\---

In the morning, Dean was surprised that he had managed to fall asleep at all. The last thing he remembered was lying wide awake in his bed, his blood pounding menacingly in his ears and his body practically vibrating with nerves. Apparently, however scary it was, choice was also exhausting.

As the sunlight crept through his window and hit Dean in the face, Sam padded softly into his room. Dean squinted up into his little brother’s face. Dark shadows played across Sam’s features, and he looked almost sad.

“You feeling okay?” asked Sam. “We missed you at dinner last night.”

Dean shrugged and turned away from his brother to fumble around with his alarm clock. “Yeah, I guess. I just felt kinda sick after the test yesterday.”

Sam nodded. “What did you get as a result?”

“What did you?” countered Dean.

Neither of them said anything for a long time. They both stared at different spots on the floor, avoiding each other’s eyes. When Dean finally looked up, he swore he could see the shine of tears in Sam’s eyes.

“Dean.”

Sam swallowed thickly and looked Dean right in the eye. “Tomorrow, when we choose, you have to think of Dad, of the family.”

Dean knew this, of course he did, why was Sam telling him this? All Dean ever did was think of the family, of Dauntless, no matter how much he sometimes wished that he could leave the duty behind him.

Sam continued. “But, you also have to think of yourself.”

\---

The hall that held the choosing ceremony was teeming with noise, a cacophony of different voices spilling out into the corridor where Dean and his family shuffled along towards the entrance. Sam trailed behind the rest of them, but Dean was in front, his eyes scanning the crowds of people. It wasn’t often that the five factions were in the same vicinity, and he greedily enjoyed the colorful jumble of humanity that was so rare in their clearly divided society.

A disembodied voice above them reminded everyone to sit in their appropriate faction section, and the Winchesters headed towards the rows of seating for Dauntless. As they neared their seats, a tall woman in a dark navy Erudite pantsuit, her hair in a tight bun atop her head, strolled down the stairs towards them. Dean was reminded of a perfectly controlled storm.

“Good morning, Naomi,” came John Winchester’s voice from behind Dean and it caused the woman’s eyes to slide over him and up to his father.

“Good morning, John,” she replied, her voice firm and commanding. She turned back to eye Dean and Sam. “Ah, these must be your children. I didn’t realize the Winchesters would be choosing today.”

The boys nodded and introduced themselves. Naomi smiled and Dean felt a small shiver run up his spine.

“You two have a very important decision to make,” she continued. “I’m sure your father will be very supportive, no matter what your choice ultimately is.”

Dean finally found his voice. “Well, it’s not really supposed to be a choice. The test is supposed to tell us our fate.” He knew that talking back to Naomi would only get him in trouble, but he’d never cared about that in the past, why start now? Even if it was at the hands of some scary Erudite hotshot.

“You’re still free to choose whichever faction you would like,” Naomi retorted, her eyebrows rising.

“But you don’t really want us to.”

“Dean,” John hissed, pulling him away by the arm. Naomi smirked at him and turned away to walk towards the stage in the center of the hall. “What were you thinking?”

Dean felt a rush of shame. He didn’t like his temper getting the better of him, especially in front of his family. “Sorry. It won’t happen again. I think I’m just really anxious or something.”

The voice reminded them to be seated once again, and despite being a little shaken by their encounter with Naomi, the Winchesters took their seats in the third row of the Dauntless section. Naomi took her place at the podium in the center of the room. Spread out behind her were five large white bowls, each engraved at the bottom with the emblem of the faction they represented.

“The faction system is a living, thriving, organism, composed of the ever-changing people it serves. You.” Naomi began her well-rehearsed speech, slowly circling around the bowls, smiling tightly at the crowd before her. “The only way it will continue to thrive is if everyone in this room plays their rightful roles. The future belongs to those who know exactly where they belong.”

They started the selection at the end of the alphabet. He’d never minded it before, but this year, Dean decided that he really despised this policy; The more time he could put between him and walking up to that stage, the better. Dean watched as people - some he knew, some he didn’t - were called up to the bowls, slit their palm, and dropped blood into the bowl that represented their faction, but it felt like he wasn’t really there. Some changed factions, shooting quick mournful glances back at their families and joining the cheering arms of their new faction.

The proceedings washed over him, and Dean was more aware of the rapid thumping of his own heartbeat, of Sam shifting nervously next to him, of his father breathing heavily on his other side, probably silently trying to transmit an order to his sons, ensuring that they choose Dauntless and family.

“Sam Winchester,” called out Naomi, her face turning towards the place where the Winchesters were seated. Sam stood up carefully and strode onto the stage, his back facing Dean and their father. He picked up the small knife next to the bowls and drew a tiny cut on his palm. Dean watched as his brother turned around for the briefest moment, locked eyes with him, and gave him a small, sad smile. Sam held his hand over a bowl and let the droplets of blood slide down his hand.

“Erudite!” proclaimed Naomi, a smug smile set upon her face. Dean was stunned. He didn’t even dare to look over at his father. To John, his son had done the unspeakable. In a matter of seconds, he had completely betrayed the family.

He watched Sam join the Erudites across the room. Sam had known, he’d known he was leaving and he hadn’t said anything, he’d left Dean alone and that practically broke Dean’s heart. If Dean was honest with himself though, Sam’s betrayal sent a spark of hope through him. Not only for himself, but for Sam too. Dean knew Erudite would fit Sam much better than Dauntless; his brother was practically a genius, and although Dean hadn’t seen this coming, it made perfect sense to him. John Winchester had different ideas.

“Don’t even think about it,” John hissed in his ear, insinuating that there would be hell to pay if Dean followed in the footsteps of his apparently rebellious brother. Naomi called Dean’s name and he froze, still watching Sam move to sit at his new spot in the Erudite section. Quickly, Dean turned to nod at his father before standing up and walking towards Naomi. Dean climbed the pearly white steps and surveyed the five bowls in front of him. He took a deep breath and picked up the knife, the blade trembling in his fingers. It ached as he slid it across his palm, partially from the pain, and partially from the weight his father had dumped onto his shoulders.

Dean held out his hand with as much force has he could muster, and watched the bright red trickle of blood slide into the bowl, sealing his fate.

“Dauntless!”

\---

Dean was lost in a throng of people. He couldn’t quite remember following the other Dauntless initiates out of the hall and towards the elevated train tracks that rose about the main level of the city. He couldn’t remember scaling the crumbling steps of a now-abandoned train station that deposited them right out onto the side of the track. If he could think long enough to get his bearings, he’s sure he’d feel something like shock. His brother had abandoned them and yet here he was, still following the path of Dauntless and his father.

He didn’t know much about life after the selection ceremony; by law, none of the adults talked much about it, so he was just as in the dark as his comrades that were not Dauntless-born, but had selected the faction instead. All he knew was that his dad went away a lot.

Dean figured this exercise was part of initiation. It was being led by Crowley, a black-haired guy with a smooth British accent, a great suit, and a terrible attitude. The dude was, according to rumor, a major dick. All the stories about him involved scaring little children and getting his enemies kicked out of the faction. Apparently, he was responsible for the existence of a large majority of the Factionless.

At this point, Dean was fully aware of his surroundings once again. The swarm of Dauntless recruits were running along the train tracks, heading towards an unknown destination. That would probably always be the case with Dauntless: onward, into the unknown, into adventure.

Dean scanned the faces around him, trying to find someone familiar, but it seemed like most of the group were new. He wasn’t sure why anyone would actually choose Dauntless, but then he thought of what it offered from an outside perspective. Freedom. Adventure. Danger. It must sound riveting to someone that hadn’t grown up in the life.

“Alright, boys and girls,” barked Crowley from up ahead. “It’s time to jump!”

A low murmur rippled through the crowd. Dean heard whispers of “Is he serious?” and “No way. That’s too dangerous” around him. He almost chuckled to himself, - he had been jumping onto buildings from the train tracks since he was a little boy, but he realized how daunting that might seem to some of the new recruits, even if Dauntless was the right faction for them - so he didn’t.

A couple people at the beginning of the throng took the lead and soared through the air from the edge of the railway tracks to land soundly on the side of a nearby building. Like they were invigorated by the fact that it _could_ be done, and suddenly, dozens of Dauntless initiates were gliding across to the other side at once. Just as Dean was preparing to jump, he was flanked by a girl with a bright shock of orange hair and a nervous expression on her face.

“Is this really happening?” she shouted, her words carrying over the exuberant cries of the other recruits.

“Yeah, c’mon!” Dean held out his hand and she grasped it wordlessly. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so willing to help; Dauntless were usually taught to look down their nose at anyone who showed fear, but he liked this girl immediately. “Ready?”

She nodded and they took off with a start. Dean heard her let out a tiny gasp when their feet left the tracks, but by the time they had landed on solid ground a few seconds later, she was grinning. When he dropped his hand, she turned to face him with her entire face lit up.

“That was so much fun! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dean laughed and patted her on the shoulder. “You handled that a lot better than the first time they made me jump. I’m impressed…” he paused, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Charlie,” she replied. “Transferred here from Amity. Nice to meet you. Thanks for the help.”

“No problem, Charlie. Grew up in Dauntless, and I'm still here, I guess.” Dean nodded and ushered her towards the front of the crowd, where Crowley seemed ready to give more orders once everyone made it across the gap and onto the building. He pulled himself up to his full height, not very tall honestly, and projected his voice across the crowd.

“Okay, listen up everyone. If you thought that was hard, wait’ll you see what we have for you next. As some of you may not know, my name is Crowley. If you’re serious about joining Dauntless, this is the way you get there,” he purred, his face twisted into a vicious grin. He gestured behind him off the side of the building. Everyone leaned forward to peer over the ledge and were greeted with a giant hole. It was dark all the way down, and seemingly endless. Dean gulped.

“That’s the entrance,” smirked Crowley. It wasn’t one Dean had ever heard of. “If you lack the guts to jump, then you don’t belong here, got it?”

“What’s at the bottom?” piped up a voice from behind Dean. He turned to catch Charlie’s eye and she smiled nervously at him. He picked up her hand and squeezed it quickly, before letting go. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered to her.

Crowley seemed visibly delighted at the question. “I guess that’s for you to find out, isn’t it lad? Now, who’s going to be lucky enough to jump first?”

The crowd was silent for a few beats, and then a tall figure stepped forward, his hand raised slightly in the air. Judging from his dark suit jacket and bright blue tie, he was formerly Erudite. Dean couldn’t see his face, but the sunlight lit up his messy dark brown hair from the back as he took several sure-footed steps forward. After Crowley beckoned him, the guy nodded, stepped up the ledge, and gracefully jumped over the side. The recruits all peered over the edge and watched him disappear into the darkness.

“Okay scaredy-cats, who’s next?” After that, everyone seemed a lot less anxious and they lined up, jumping down into the hole one by one. Dean followed immediately after Charlie, taking a deep breath and jumping in. Every other Dauntless initiate had gone through this, his dad included; this wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. The darkness swallowed him up, and he was falling, falling, falling, until he suddenly hit a trampoline at the bottom and bounced back upwards. The second time Dean landed, he stayed down, his back hitting the mesh fibers underneath him. He laid his head back and breathed deeply, letting the adrenaline rush out of his body as he stared up the sky through the gaping hole above him.

“Dean, c’mon! You gotta get out of the way,” called Charlie from somewhere behind his head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered, sitting up and quickly scooting to the edge of the trampoline. Charlie moved towards Dean and held out her hand. He took it and she pulled him off the trampoline, just as the next jumper tumbled down.

\---

The dining hall was noisy, noisier than Dean had ever heard it, but he felt the most alone he’d ever felt. He was seated at his usual spot in the hall, close to the exits but also where he could survey the entire room; his dad taught him that, but John was nowhere to be seen tonight. Dean’s gaze slid over the seat next to him, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. It hadn’t even been a full day and he already missed his brother something awful. Dauntless had at least been bearable with Sam, but now it just made him angry. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t _belong_ here. Apparently, he didn’t belong anywhere.

He was picking at an overcooked and limp piece of broccoli when Charlie slid in next to him, her hair glistening under the harsh dining room lights.

“Well someone’s looking awfully gloomy. You alright, Dean?” He hesitated for a second. He didn’t know Charlie that well, but if he talked to someone, anyone, especially this girl with kind eyes and an attitude to be admired, then maybe he would feel a bit better. She gave him a small, genuine smile and Dean made up his mind.

“Not really,” he said. “It’s my brother.”

Dean told her the story. He left out some key parts, like his distressing test result, but Charlie still got to hear more than almost anyone else would have. Just as he was about to finish telling Charlie what had happened, a deep voice from behind interrupted him mid-sentence.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” It was the guy with messy brown hair, pointing at the seat on the other side of Dean. “Sure.” Dean shrugged. He sat down, and from up close, Dean could see that he wasn’t as tall as he’d thought, maybe a couple inches shorter than Dean, and his eyes were bright blue. Dean turned back to Charlie, wanting to talk to her more, but she seemed to have different ideas.

“Hey, you were the first jumper, right?” Blue-eyes muttered a gruff affirmation in response and began filling his empty plate with food.

“So what, you from Erudite or something?” Dean gestured towards the guy’s suit and raised his eyebrows.

“Yes,” he replied. “But I’m Dauntless now.”

“Cool,” Dean said, stupidly. The more Dean talked to him, the more the guy seemed to grow annoyed, shoveling the food in his mouth like it was going to run away if he took his eyes of it for a second. “Is Erudite okay, I mean? My brother’s there now.”

“Erudite is right for some. For others, not so much.” He gestured to himself pointedly.

“Yeah, thanks Mr. Cryptic,” muttered Dean, and Charlie smacked him on the arm. “Be nice!” she hissed. Charlie leaned over to catch Erudite Dude’s attention. “What’s your name?”

“Castiel,” he replied.

Charlie grinned at him. “What a neat name! My name’s Charlie. It’s kinda weird too, cuz there aren’t many girls named Charlie, but I love it. And grumpy over here is Dean.”

Dean gave him a small half-smile and caught his eye. Castiel stared at him curiously for a second; his eyes conveyed more than his vague, short words could. There was fear and worry in his eyes, but also warmth. Dean wondered just how much of his story Castiel had overheard, because people didn’t look at Dean like that without a reason. People didn’t look at Dean like that period. This dude was fucking weird. He turned back to his food.

Charlie continued to talk to Castiel, and although he didn’t offer much in response, Dean could see that he was listening attentively, chuckling softly at all the right parts and sliding his eyes over to Dean every once in a while. Dean kind of zoned out, but he kept watching Castiel – in a totally normal, non-creepy way, thank you very much. It was just that Dean was used to Dauntless’ loud braggarts, boasting about how they weren’t scared of anything. And here was Castiel, with his bright eyes and gruff voice, the antithesis of everyone Dean had grown up around, yet he still looked tough as hell. Dean didn’t know what to do with him.

He was shaken out of his reverie by Crowley’s smarmy voice from somewhere above him. Everyone in the dining hall turned and stared up at the balcony, where Crowley and his minions were strolling out to the railing.

“Initiates. Stand up.” The entire hall jumped to its feet, the room filled with the clatter of knives and forks before falling completely silent. Crowley seemed utterly pleased with all the attention, his face splitting into a smug grin. “They want me to remind you that it is this faction’s job to protect the city of Detroit and all its inhabitants, and that we value your acts of bravery, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.” Dean rolled his eyes. He’d heard this stuff from his father a million times. “But what I really want to tell you about is how you can ensure that you stay in Dauntless. Not everyone makes it, you know, regardless of their test result. So, I want you all to meet me here tomorrow morning, bright and early, to start our training. I wish everyone the best of luck.” And with that, he turned around and stalked out of the room.

They were a few scattered groans through the crowd. Dean turned back to his new friends and wished them a good night. Charlie and Castiel had to go back to the dorms, since they were not Dauntless-born, but Dean would return to his house. For a quick second, Dean was excited. His house meant home, meant Sammy, but it only took a moment before he was shoved back into reality. Sam wouldn’t be there; he wouldn’t ever be back home. Dean trudged out of the dining hall, heart heavy.

\---

Dean woke with a start, his alarm blaring loudly from somewhere behind his head. He poked at it clumsily until it finally turned off and he reluctantly jumped out of bed. The house was empty, unnaturally quiet, and he moved through it like a ghost. He got dressed as quickly as he could, scarfed down a bagel, and ran out the door towards the Dauntless training facilities.

He found the rest of the initiates spread out across the boxing gym, many of them visibly tired – drooped over and rubbing the sleep from their eyes – as they sat on the benches that ran across the edges of the room. Dean caught a glimpse of Charlie’s hair and strode over, laughing when he saw who she was talking to.

“Hey Victor!” Dean clapped his friend on the back and raised his other hand to greet Charlie.

“Whoa,” Charlie was positively beaming. “You two know each other?”

“Hell yeah,” said Dean. “We’ve been friends since grade school. He’s Dauntless-born too.” Victor was one of the best guys Dean knew, smart and driven and principled, even when they were younger. Hell, the first time they met, five-year-old Victor had arrested five-year-old Dean for creating a “public disturbance” when he kicked twelve-year-old Gordon Walker in the shin.

“Yeah, I know.” Charlie motioned for Dean to join them on the bench. “I was just telling him how much the dorms for the new recruits suck. There’s no privacy!”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve heard about those. Don’t worry though, you’ll move up into something better eventually. I, on the other hand, had a nice long shower last night in my cozy little house.” Dean neglected to mention how stiflingly empty the house had felt, his father still MIA since the selection ceremony, and Sam – well, Sam was gone. At least Dean excelled at putting a decent front forward.

“Dick.” She punched him in the arm. Victor and Charlie exchanged a high-five.

“Alright everyone, listen up.” Jo Harvelle stood in the middle of the room, her arms crossed defiantly. Jo had been another of Dean’s good friends, but he hadn’t seen much of her lately. They were the same age, they’d grown up together, but Jo had taken the test at sixteen while Dean was left behind. Of course she’d not only gotten Dauntless – the girl was freakin’ fearless – but she’d moved her way up to a prominent position in their leadership. Dean was real proud of her.

The whole room turned their attention to Jo. “Over the next few months, everyone in here will be completing their Dauntless training. Defending the city is a difficult task, and we want to make sure everyone is capable of handling it. Unfortunately, failure to complete this training will result in a dismissal from the Dauntless faction.”

Dean and everyone in the room knew that it meant becoming Factionless. There weren't any other options if you got kicked out a faction. Those were the rules.

“The training is split into two parts - the first is a series of physical tasks that will push your bodies to the edge and prepare you for the most physically straining situations. The second, and most important, is the mental component. Here, you will be confronted with your worst fears and taught to overcome them. The results of your training will help us determine which jobs you will move into once it is completed.”

Jo smiled her huge, genuine smile. “What we do is hard, but I know that everyone in this room is perfectly qualified to handle anything we throw at you.”

After Jo’s announcement, the initiates turned to their neighbors, whispering furiously. Dean turned to Charlie and noticed that she was a bit awe-struck, her eyes wide.

“You okay?” Dean nudged her in the side.

“Who - was that?” Charlie whispered back.

“Jo Harvelle. Dauntless-born. Scariest person I know. Well, maybe besides her mom.”

“She’s really hot,” Charlie breathed out.

“She’s also single.” Victor added. Charlie glared back at him. “Shut up. I didn’t join Dauntless to find a girlfriend. I was just - appreciating.” Dean winked at her.

“Ugh, you guys are the worst.” Dean and Victor started laughing, loudly, before they realized that everyone else was silent and staring at their little group. They stopped laughing abruptly.

“Thank you, Mr. Henriksen, Mr. Winchester.” Crowley had surreptitiously taken Jo’s spot in the center of the gym and was now sneering at the three of them. “So glad you could join us.”

“So glad you could...be here,” retorted Dean under his breath. It wasn’t very funny. He needed to work on his comebacks, especially if Crowley’s douchebag self was gonna be around all the time.

Crowley was still talking. Ugh.

“I want the first jumper to come up here.” Dean’s eyes widened as he searched the room for Castiel. Only when he stepped out of the far corner of the gym did Dean see him, and he caught Castiel’s eye. He looked calm as ever, ready for anything Crowley could send his way. Dean flashed him a reassuring smile and a thumbs up.

“And the last jumper.” A tall, timid-looking bald dude made his way up to Castiel and Crowley. Castiel seemed to recognize him, his face hardening. Dean wondered if he was from Erudite too. “Alright you two, get in the ring.” Crowley pointed at the boxing ring in the center of the gym. “It’s time to begin training with a little fun.”

The initiates watched as Castiel and Tall&Bald stepped into the ring. “Now,” Crowley continued, “you fight until one of you can’t anymore.” He literally rubbed his hands together, like he was an evil villain or something. Dean rolled his eyes.

When he was done making fun of Crowley in his head, however, Dean felt his stomach sink. This really didn’t seem like a good idea, especially on the first day of training. Jo seemed to feel the same way.

“Or if one of you concedes,” she added. Crowley dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “No. No concessions.” Jo looked both murderous and worried at his response, but she didn’t dare say anything else. Even with Jo’s power in Dauntless, one simply did not piss off Crowley unless they wanted to end up Factionless.

Dean watched as Cas and the other initiate took their places in the ring, each on opposing corners. Castiel was still wearing the same dumb suit from yesterday, or maybe a different but identical one – the new recruits obviously hadn’t received their red and black Dauntless uniforms yet – but he pulled off the jacket in one swift movement and tossed it to the ground outside the ring. He also rolled up the sleeves of his bright white dress shirt. Victor whispered something in his ear, but Dean didn’t really hear him. He was kind of distracted.

He wasn’t close enough to hear, but the bald guy seemed to say something to Castiel with a taunting, malicious smile on his face. Castiel clenched his fists and gave the other guy a look that would make men stronger than Dean weak in the knees. Holy shit. Castiel was terrifying.

Crowley stepped up to the side of the ring and motioned with his hand. “What are you waiting for, morons? Get on with it.” They sprung into action, circling each other; Dean didn’t realize how much it had felt like everyone in the gym was holding their breath until Cas and the other initiate started moving. The other guy swung first, and Castiel ducked just in time. Baldy was by no means clumsy and he had a few inches and more than a few pounds on Castiel, but Castiel was graceful and fast, able to dodge his counterpart’s swings. Despite the physical differences, they were evenly matched, each connecting on a few punches now and again, until Baldy stepped forward and tripped Castiel, quick and dirty, then slugged him in the jaw as he fell.

Blood spilled out of Castiel’s mouth, and Dean found himself leaping to his feet because Baldy was not fighting fair. Crowley, the dick, was just laughing to himself, but the rest of the room had fallen silent in shock. The bald fighter wouldn’t stop hitting Castiel, ugly invective spilling out of his mouth. There was clearly a much deeper conflict here.

Dean rushed towards the ring, ignoring Charlie’s protests behind him. “I think that’s enough, Crowley,” he growled, looking towards Jo for support. She nodded and turned to glare at Crowley. With no explicit order to stop yet, Baldy kept wailing on Castiel in the ring. Dean didn’t know why this made him so angry, or why he even cared what happened to this quiet Erudite who he’d barely known for a day, but he did and there was no going back now.

Crowley groaned dramatically, but stepped into the ring to pull them apart. Baldly looked thoroughly amused and annoyed, and Dean wanted to punch _him_ in the face. Jo moved to stand in front of the ring and addressed the stunned faces crowding the room. “Everyone go get lunch. We’ll meet back here for, ah, _actual_ training in an hour. Thank you.” The trainees filed out quickly, murmuring amongst themselves. Tall &Bald followed them, a grin plastered on his stupid, smug face. Dean waved Charlie and Victor over to help him.

The gym was empty now, save for the three of them, Jo, and Castiel.

“Dean, think you can handle this?” Jo asked. “I have a meeting that I can’t miss, and I don’t want to be in even more trouble with Crowley.” Dean nodded; he’d do a lot for Jo, and more than that, he wanted to help Castiel. “Get him to the infirmary. I’m sorry about this. You know how Crowley can be. I just never thought he would take it this far on the first day of training.”

“Don’t worry Jo. I’ll take care of it. Thanks for not letting Crowley push you around.” She gave him a small smile and rushed off. Charlie watched her go.

“ _Charlie_ ,” Dean hissed. “We gotta help him. Focus.” She rolled her eyes at him, but moved besides Dean and Victor to help pull Castiel to his feet. Castiel was a tough dude, so he wasn’t quite unconscious no matter how dirty Baldy had fought, but Dean still didn’t like how pale his skin had turned. Dean gently placed one of Castiel’s arms around his shoulder, Charlie doing the same on the other side, and Victor let go to pick up Castiel’s jacket.

Castiel was obviously struggling to keep his head up as they hobbled out of the gym, a weird three-person tango with Victor leading the way in front of them.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean asked softly, his head facing forward to avoid having a mouthful of Castiel’s hair.

“I just got the shit beat out of me,” came the raspy and indignant reply. “What do you think?”

\---

Charlie, Dean, and Victor were whispering outside Castiel’s room when they heard a clear call of “ _Dean_ ” from inside. Castiel had fallen asleep almost immediately after they had gotten him into one of the beds in the infirmary, and the nurse on duty had shooed them out of the room soon after that. So, they were relegated to the bright yellow plastic chairs outside the hospital room.

Surprised, Dean looked at the others, but they only shrugged at him. He looked both ways to check for that nurse, but when he didn’t see her, he followed Castiel’s voice into his room. Castiel was sitting up against the pillows, his dark hair a shocking contrast to the white fabric behind him. Considering what had happened, he didn’t look that bad. Baldy had really only gone for his face, but they had cleaned up all the blood, leaving Castiel’s face clear but nastily swollen.

“Hey, you need something?” Dean approached the bed and sat down in the large blue chair next to Castiel, considerably more comfortable than the plastic ones outside.

Castiel turned to face him, his cheek resting against the pillow. “I just wanted to say thank you. Zachariah can be - intense, once he gets going.”

“Um yeah, I would say so.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “So you know that dude? Zachariah?”

He nodded. “Zachariah and I have a bit of a history. He’s from Erudite too, as you probably guessed, and our relationship has always been a bit strained. I’m not quite sure why he chose Dauntless; he fit perfectly in Erudite.”

Dean swallowed. “I guess sometimes that just happens. Ending up in the wrong faction, I mean.” Castiel was staring at him, his perceptive eyes searching Dean’s face like he could tell exactly what Dean meant by that comment. Dean felt like he might as well have been screaming, _me, something’s wrong with me and I shouldn’t be here, I’m Divergent and I don’t belong anywhere_. But that was stupid. It wasn’t like Castiel could read Dean’s mind.

Castiel switched the subject, as if he could sense Dean’s discomfort. “Who was the other guy, with you and Charlie?”

“Oh, Victor,” Dean replied. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. He’s awesome.” Castiel smiled at this, nothing big or toothy, but Dean couldn’t help but smile back.

“He sounds great. I can’t wait to meet him.”

Dean grinned even harder. “When do you get out of this place, anyways?”

“The nurse said the swelling should go down in a day or two, and then I can get started on training. It really isn’t that bad, I’ve had worse.”

Dean’s stomach twisted at this, but he wasn’t quite sure what to say, so he settled on patting Castiel’s shoulder gently. “Well, I hope Dauntless treats you better than Erudite did. You give me a ring when you get better, okay Cas? Wait, can I call you Cas?”

Castiel chuckled and nodded his assent. “Of course, Dean. I know my name can be a mouthful.”

“Sweet.” Dean turned to rummage through the drawer in the bedside table, making a triumphant noise when he pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He printed his number on the paper, neatly, and pressed it into Castiel’s hand.

 

\---

For some unknown reason, Victor and Charlie had dragged him to the local tattoo parlor after the second day of training, and were now combing over books with tattoo ideas. Dean didn’t really want to be here; the parlor was crowded and stuffy and the smoky pink and orange lighting was giving him a major headache. Plus, his friends kept trying to convince him that a tattoo would look great on him, but Dean didn’t have the heart to tell them that he already had a tattoo and he wasn’t getting another one any time soon. It was an ancient protection symbol on his chest, identical to Sammy’s. It was special, really special, and Dean couldn’t look at a tattoo as a fun diversion, something you got because you were _bored_ , after that.

“For the last time guys, I don’t want a tattoo.”

“Ugh, fine.” Charlie pouted. “You’re no fun.” Dean glared at her.

“See what I mean, Victor? He’s all mean looks and sharp teeth. Remind me not to get on his bad side.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend that,” added Victor. Dean had kind of stopped listening though, because his eyes had caught on a dark figure moving through the shadows on the other side of the room. Tessa walked toward a table of instruments, tossing her inky black hair over her shoulder. Dean’s heart caught in his throat. He didn’t know Tessa worked here, he’d never seen her around the parlor before, but he figured it made sense. Administering placement tests once a year could hardly provide adequate income. Dean turned away from his friends and started making his way towards Tessa.

“What a weirdo,” Charlie murmured under her breath. Victor snickered loudly.

He approached Tessa and she looked up as he reached her, her eyes widening in recognition.

“Remember me?” Tessa looked away and focused on packing up her equipment. Dean continued on anyways. “I was wondering if you could -”

“No.” Tessa cut him off. “I only do tattoos.”

“Can I just ask you a quest -”

“You made a mistake in choosing Dauntless.” She cut him off again. Her voice was low, and she looked around hesitantly, making sure they were secluded enough from the rest of the patrons. Dean looked back at Charlie and Victor, who were not-so-subtly staring at Dean and Tessa from across the room.

“Why?” Dean shot back. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? You know, before I sealed my fate for the rest of my life.”

“I hadn’t realized how bad it was.” She bent her head down, actually looking sorry. “They’ve started going after Divergents. When they find out about you -” Tessa stopped and shook her head.

“When who finds out about me?”

“The people who are threatened by you,” Tessa answered. “Society.”

Dean raised his eyebrows, his eyes questioning. “If you don’t fit into one of their fixed categories, then it’s impossible for them to control you. You pose a threat to the very foundation of this society,” she continued. “They don’t want Divergents. They don’t want people who are going to rip up the rulebook. And from what I understand, Dean, you’ve been a threat in this regard for your whole life. All they need is proof that you’re Divergent and they’ll be after your head. Please watch out for yourself.”

He nodded, not quite sure how to process all her information. “Thanks, Tessa.”

“Now get out of here,” she shooed him away. “And don’t bother me again.”

\---

Dean didn’t see much of Castiel during the first few weeks of training. Cas called Dean once they let him out of the infirmary, but they could only find time to hold short conversations before they were whisked away by some other obligation. Dean mostly spent his time hanging out with Charlie and Victor, and he failed to catch a glimpse of that messy hair during any of the sessions. He would be worried, if not for Victor telling him that he’d seen Castiel laughing quietly with Jo at breakfast most mornings.

The next morning, Dean scanned the dining hall crowd for Cas, but to no avail. He realized he’d been unconsciously searching for him anywhere he went when his father called him out on it.

“What’s wrong with you boy? You seem awfully distracted lately.” Dean had thought he’d seen Castiel out of the corner of his eye and completely missed what John was trying to tell him.

“Nothing,” Dean mumbled. “It’s nothing. ‘M just tired.” It wasn’t a lie, at least. He was having a hard time sleeping, what with Sammy gone, Castiel’s mysterious absence, and Tessa’s words weighing heavily down on him. Plus, every time he fell asleep he only seemed to dream about his mom, and he’d wake up with his heart aching in his chest.

“You better damn well get some more sleep then. I’m not having you fail your Dauntless training because of something stupid like being too tired. Speaking of which, I was talking to some people the other day, and they were telling me that you haven’t been as on your game as they expected. I think you oughta work a bit harder at training. Maybe put in some solo sessions too.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “Sorry Dad. I’ll work harder, I promise.”

“That’s my boy.”

So that’s how Dean ended up in the empty training room at one o’clock in the morning. Apparently, even with all his complaints about Dean not getting enough sleep, John was okay with him giving up precious hours of shut-eye to get in better shape.

The dim lights cast an eerie glow over the dark mats and bright-red punching bags at this hour. He turned the corner into the main floor of the gym, expecting to be greeted by an empty room, but there was Castiel - _finally_ – his back to Dean and his figure lit up by a bright overhead light, like a halo Dean stopped for a second, taken aback.

Castiel hadn’t heard Dean approach; he kept on hitting the punching bag with rhythmic, firm strokes, his attack lithe and silent. Dean strode up towards him, a small smile floating on the edge of his lips. Something about Cas made him giddy, silly, made him forget about all the other crap in his life. It was stupid, really. He didn’t even know the guy.

“Heya, Cas.”

Castiel whirled around, his fists raised in the air. The look of surprise in his eyes turned to something friendly when he saw who it was.

“Oh, hello Dean,” he breathed out, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask you, buddy. My dad sent me down here to get some extra training.”

“Your dad,” Castiel squinted, “is from Dauntless?” Dean nodded. “How come I’ve never seen him?”

“He’s, um, away most of the time. You know, protecting the city and all that.” Dean swallowed. “It’s been that way my whole life.” Cas looked at him, scrutinized really, and Dean squirmed under his unnerving stare.

“I’m sorry Dean. That does not sound - ideal.”

Dean waved his words away. “It doesn’t matter. What I really care about is why you’re punching the lights out of that bag at such an ungodly hour.”

Castiel looked away. “Same as you, I guess. I want to better my fighting capabilities. A repeat of what happened with Zachariah is - not desirable, and I don’t want to end up Factionless.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t worry. I’d never let you end up Factionless. You and me, we’re in it together. You’re strong, I can tell. Zachariah was just a fluke and that son of a bitch fought dirty.”

Cas’s eyes lit up, visible even in the darkness, at Dean’s words. “Thanks, Dean. Maybe we could help each other out?”

“‘Course.” Dean gestured towards the punching bag. “Show me what you’ve got.”

He turned away towards the bag and Dean followed him into the circle of light. He watched Cas take a few jabs before Dean stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, Cas. You gotta put your whole body into it, it’ll make your punches that much stronger.” He held up his hands and met Castiel’s gaze, a question in his eyes. Cas nodded approval and Dean moved to line up behind his back. He placed his hands on both sides of Castiel, just above his hips. His skin was warm under his thin black t-shirt. “Now, keep the tension here. Go ahead,” Dean said to the back of Castiel’s neck.

Cas took a few more swings and the thumping sound of his fist hitting the red leather was distinctly louder. “Alright,” Dean continued. “You’re fast, you gotta go on offense. If you don’t attack quickly, if you don’t use your speed, people like Zachariah are gonna get you down, and then your advantage is gone.” Castiel nodded and dealt the punching bag more blows, with Dean following the movement of his body. He seemed to get the hang of it, so Dean started to step back and remove his hands. Castiel whirled around at the same time, and they somehow ended up close, their chests almost touching.

“Thank you,” Cas breathed. “That was very helpful.” Dean swallowed hard in response. God, he had no idea what he was doing.

“Yeah-h, sure.” Dean replied. Smoothly, of course.

Castiel backed up and smiled wickedly. “My turn.”

\---

They developed a routine. Cas and Dean met in the gym almost every night after dark. Sometimes, Charlie and Victor joined them and the four of them ended up hanging out all night; they never did much but laugh and mess around, but they had fun, which was rare in training. Other times, after a particularly grueling day, Dean and Castiel would be too tired to practice, so they slumped against the padded gym walls and talked. Cas never talked much about his family or Erudite, and Dean rarely brought it up. Family was a sore subject for both of them.

(“Cas. I don’t think Crowley actually has a soul.”

“Of course he has a soul, Dean. One time, I caught him listening to music. He was even dancing.”

“What kind of music?”

“Um, Britney Spears?”

“See what I mean - no soul.”)

Sometimes they fell asleep against the wall, their shoulders pressed against each other. Despite the inevitable crick his neck, Dean always slept better this way.

(“Why do people count sheep, of all animals, when they are trying to fall asleep?”

“I don’t know, Cas. Maybe sheep are boring or something.”

“I’ve never seen a sheep before. Only in books or the movies.”

“Well I’ll tell you what, Cas. Someday, I’ll take you out to the Amity farms and you can see all the sheep you want. We’ll get some fresh fruit, have a picnic. Sound good?”

“Mhmm, sounds great.”)

And sometimes, they talked about their families anyways.

(“Sam will do great in Erudite. Trust me.”)

They still had to drag themselves up in the morning for training, and the upcoming day was especially exciting. They were headed to a special workout building on the edge of Detroit, just inside the wall. The initiates marched towards the building in two lines, Dean and Charlie next to each other, with Victor and Castiel following behind. They were in Jo’s section – Dean was pretty sure Charlie had planned that - and she was giving them orders.

“In Dauntless, our mission is to protect every single life within the fence, no matter who they are or what faction they come from. Even the Factionless are under our jurisdiction and deserve to be protected.” Dean was pretty sure that last part was added by Jo, and he loved her for it. “That’s why we train you like this and work you so hard.”

They were heading up a long set of stairs now on the side of the building, open to the air, and Jo was now too far away to be heard. The top of the stairs opened out into a balcony, with a clear view of the fence and the world beyond. All four of them stopped and crowded close to the low stone wall on the edge of the building.

“What’s out there, do you think?” asked Dean, squinting against the brilliant morning sun.

“Monsters,” replied Charlie, her tone mocking. Dean flipped her off.

“Amity fields, of course,” came Victor’s reply.

“Okay yeah.” Dean crossed his arms. “I’m not stupid. I mean beyond the fields.”

“Places that never recovered after the war,” Victor said, matter-of-factly. “Apparently, Detroit’s the only thing left. Mr. Singer taught us all about that in 6th grade. You were probably too busy staring at Cassie Robinson to remember.”

Castiel chuckled loudly.

“Shut up, Cas.”

“Cassie turned him down, eventually.” They were all laughing now.

“You know what? Fuck you guys,” Dean said good-naturedly, hiding his smile.

\---

It turned out that this training center had a special facility to practice their knife-throwing skills. Dean wasn’t exactly sure when that was supposed to come in handy, because no one fought with knives anymore, but Crowley seemed to think it was important. He broke them off into groups, sending them to various marks around the room. The body-shaped targets glowed an ethereal bright blue against the dark wall. Crowley set down a bucket of throwing knives, crossed his arms, and took a step back. Apparently, he was staying to watch their group. Dean reached towards the bucket and grabbed a knife hesitantly, lobbing it towards the target. Everyone followed suit after that, and the room was filled with soft whooshing sounds of the knives hurling through the air.

After a couple throws, Dean stopped and looked around to see how his friends were faring. Charlie was alright; all of her knives hit the target, though some were in less desirable or critical areas. Unfortunately, Victor was mostly awful, many of his lobs missing entirely. Castiel, on the other hand, was superb, perfectly on target.

Dean nudged him on the shoulder. “Hey, you’re pretty good at this.” Cas turned away to hide a smile.

Another of Victor’s knives clattered loudly to the ground, and Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as Crowley stalked up behind him.

“That was plain pathetic,” he sneered. “I expected better out of you, Victor Henriksen.”

Victor drew himself up and met Crowley’s eyes. “Sorry, sir. This is just not my forte.”

“Go get it,” Crowley demanded sharply, pointing at the knife on the ground in front of the target.

“Um, while they’re throwing?”

“What? You afraid or something?”

“That I’ll get stabbed by one of these flying knives?” Victor retorted. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Crowley raised his voice, his dark eyes narrowing. “Alright, everybody stop.” The group stilled, all heads turned towards Crowley and Victor.

“Go stand in front of a target, Victor.”

Dean had never seen Victor look so alarmed before. He wondered if there was something terrible about knives in his past that made Victor freeze up like this. He acted like Dean did around fire; at four years old, Dean had watched his mother disappear in a blaze of orange, an unforgiving monster who didn’t care that Dean would never have his mother sing to him again, stroke his hair, tuck him into bed.

Still, Victor did as he was told, warily approaching the target, lining his body up with it, and turning around to face the rest of the group.

“You’re gonna stand there, right in front of the target, while Castiel here throws those knives.” Crowley gestured towards Cas, who narrowed his eyes and set his mouth into a firm line.

“Now, if I see you flinch, you’re gonna be out of Dauntless so fast it’s gonna make your head spin.”

Dean’s blood was boiling.

Crowley kept going. “One very important thing about this faction, that I want you guys to always remember, is that orders are not optional under any circumstances. Victor, of all people, should have known that. You can’t join law enforcement if you don’t listen to your superiors, Victor, and you’ll never get the chance if you give me a reason to kick you out of Dauntless. So, don’t give me a reason.”

Now Dean was seeing red. Victor didn’t deserve this. Victor followed orders better than anyone and cared the most about Dauntless of anyone Dean knew other than maybe Jo. Victor wasn’t Dean; Victor _belonged_ here. Castiel picked up a knife, throwing an apologetic look towards Victor, and carefully adjusted his fingers around the handle. When he raised the weapon, Dean’s heart threatened to pound out of his chest. Crowley signaled towards Cas, but Dean got there first.

“Stop.”

They all turned to look at him, and the knife slid out of Castiel’s hand.

“Anyone can stand in front of a target, Crowley.” Dean’s voice was firm. “It doesn’t prove anything. It doesn’t prove how strong Victor is.”

“Is that so, Winchester?” Crowley jeered. “Why don’t you take Henriksen’s place, then?”

Dean nodded. He gathered himself, took a deep breath, and crossed the floor to Victor’s target. Victor moved out of the way, his face a mix of shock and gratitude. Dean turned to face them, bathed in a blue glow from the target behind him. Cas stared at him, his eyes burning. Dean could see the silent “ _Are you stupid, Dean Winchester?_ ” in them. To be perfectly honest, this was probably the stupidest thing Dean had ever done. At least he was doing it for a good cause, to save his friend.

“The same rules apply,” barked Crowley. “Flinch, and you’re out.”

Castiel wasn’t picking up the knife. Crowley was eyeing him gleefully. Dean could tell that he wanted Cas to disobey because he wanted someone else to punish too.

“Cas, pick up the damn knife,” Dean hissed across the floor. Cas looked at him now, his eyes pleading. Dean just glared harder at him. He finally acquiesced under Dean’s stare and grabbed the knife again. Dean steeled himself as Cas raised the blade and thrust his hand forward. The knife hurtled through the air and clipped the target near Dean’s forearm. He remained perfectly still, but his heart was beating a tattoo against his chest. Cas was damn good with a blade, and Dean trusted him, but it was still near impossible to concentrate on what was happening when Crowley was smiling wickedly behind him.

The next one hit beside Dean’s waist, and Crowley gave Cas a little disapproving noise. “Oh c’mon, Castiel. You can do better than that.”

Cas looked positively murderous, but he turned his gaze back towards Dean and his eyes seemed to soften. The tension was thick as they stared at each other, and Dean swallowed, hard. Castiel’s next throw was right above Dean’s head, but he still didn’t move even a fraction of an inch. Cas picked up one more knife, curling his fingers around the handle, and took a step forward. He pitched it forward and Dean stopped breathing as he watched it whizz through the air. He heard the sound of it punch into the target right next to his ear, millimeters away from his skin. Dean let out a breath.

“Alright, that’s enough, Novak.” Castiel drew back, visibly relieved, and Dean stepped off the target. Crowley turned towards Dean. “Points for bravery, Winchester. However, you never should have opened your mouth in the first place. Watch yourself, boy. As I’m sure your daddy’s told you, we train soldiers here at Dauntless. Not rebels.” Dean nodded, and looked away from Crowley.

“You’re all dismissed. Proceed back to headquarters. Immediately.” Crowley stalked away. The others headed to the door, but Dean moved towards Castiel, Victor and Charlie hanging quietly in the background.

“Are you okay, Dean?”

“I’m fine, Cas. Thankfully, you’re a damn good knife-thrower.”

“That was stupid,” Castiel chastised. “You wanna get on Crowley’s bad side?”

“Eh, I’ve always been on his bad side,” replied Dean. “He’s already got it in for me. Victor, on the other hand, can’t afford it. My father would at least give Crowley hell for doing something, but Victor hasn’t got anyone like that.”

“You’re a good friend, Dean Winchester.” Castiel was shaking his head fondly. “And a goddamn fool.”

 ** _Chapter_** **_2_**

Dean heard her heels clacking against the tiled floor before he saw her. Naomi, followed by a posse of dark-suited men and women, strode down the hallway away from the dining hall. Castiel froze, and a look of terror crept over his face in a way that was deeply unsettling to Dean.

“I have to go,” he mumbled, and hurried off in the other direction. Dean turned and watched him go, shrugging his shoulders at Victor and Charlie’s questioning looks.

“Ah. Mr. Winchester and...” she peered around him, “friends.”

“Naomi.” He nodded at her, politely. Every instinct told him to rush off after Castiel. He’d looked plain spooked, and Dean was worried.

“What a pleasant surprise,” she said, clearly not pleased at all. “I was just having a little chat with your dad. It seems he’s still somewhat bitter over your brother’s choices. I told him not to worry. Your brother’s doing so well in Erudite. In fact, he’s so busy, I doubt he even has the time to miss his family.” Dean didn’t miss the underhanded insult, and clenched his fists. “I guess that’s how it works though. Hard to look back when you’ve moved on to much bigger and brighter things.”

“I know Sam,” Dean replied coolly. “He misses us.”

Naomi just raised her eyebrows and smirked at him. “If you say so. Now, I have to go find Crowley. Nice talk, Dean. Let me know if you ever - need anything.” She turned and clattered off in the other direction. Dean glared at her retreating back.

“Well that was kinda weird,” remarked Charlie. Victor nudged Dean with his elbow.

“Was that Naomi? As in the leader of Erudite, Naomi?”

Dean nodded. “What the hell was she doing here?” asked Victor.

“Hunting Divergents probably,” Charlie said. Her voice was solemn. “Jo told me it’s all Erudite cares about anymore. They’re always having meetings with the other factions, trying to get all the leaders on the same page. She couldn’t tell me much, and I wasn’t supposed to tell anybody else, but you guys are – you. All I’m saying is, it’s a dangerous world out there for people that don’t fit the mold.”

“Wait, Divergents are real?” whispered Victor. “I thought that was an old myth they’d tell us to keep us in line.”

“Well, apparently they’re real.” Charlie whispered back as they entered the dining hall. “And the factions want them dead.”

Dean felt sick. He grabbed a tray from the corner and looked down at the food, his stomach turning. The noises of the crowded hall washed over him and he watched his friends pile vegetables onto their plates and he pretended not to be terrified.

\---

A decidedly less-glamorous part of Dauntless’ job was shipping materials between the factions. They were tasked with hauling large bags of rice and corn and other dried goods that arrived from Amity, and packing them into trucks headed off towards the other factions. Dean and his friends usually did this early on Sunday mornings, got it over quickly, and spent the rest of the day entertaining themselves.

Dean was reaching for a bag packed full of beans when a bright light from inside the storeroom blinded him. He looked up and saw the light shining from between two stacks of bags, glinting in the early morning light. It was – a mirror. Someone was using it to get attention.

Squinting, Dean slowly moved closer, carefully checking around him to make sure no one was watching. He snuck around the stacks, peering into the space behind them. Before he knew it, Dean was surrounded by two strong arms, pulling him into a crushing hug.

“Holy shit,” Dean said into his brother’s shoulder. “Sam?”

Sam pulled away, a huge smile spreading over his features.

“Jeez Dean, I’ve missed you.”

Dean grinned at him. “Me too, Sammy, me fuckin’ too.”

He automatically went into overprotective older-brother mode. “What are you doing here, though? If you get caught -”

“I’m not gonna get caught, Dean.” Sam rolled his eyes. “I was in this part of the city to do some research, and I couldn’t resist. How are you?”

Dean sighed. “Same old, I guess. Dad’s never here. Mom’s – still dead. The usual.”

“Dean.” Sam frowned at him. “Have you made any new friends or anything?”

Now this was something Dean wanted to talk about. “Yeah Sam, I have. Me ‘n Victor are pretty close now, but I’ve also got Charlie and Cas. Charlie is - well, let’s just say, you two would get along perfectly. A regular pair of geeks. And Cas - Cas is a weirdo in a different way. But he’s,” Dean couldn’t hold back a small smile, “he’s really great.”

Sam smirked, knowingly.

“Oh, and Jo too! She’s doin’ real well. Doesn’t take any shit from Crowley. But I wanna know about you. How’s Erudite, man?”

“I miss you and Dad like hell, of course, but I really fit in there. I know I shouldn’t have abandoned the family, but Dean, I’m really happy. Besides not getting to see your stupid face every day.”

Dean socked him lightly in the shoulder. “It’s okay, Sam. I understand. I don’t blame you.” Dean swallowed, and continued quietly. “Sometimes, I wish I had the guts like you.”

Sam’s face hardened. “Dean. I gotta ask you something important, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

“What was your test result? Honestly?”

Dean swallowed. “It was um, inconclusive. It didn’t work.”

“Divergent?”

He nodded.

“Dean, listen to me. You can’t tell anyone, okay? Not your friends, not your instructors, not even Dad. No one.”

“Sam -”

“No, Dean, listen to me. You gotta listen. Erudite is seeking them out, killing them, or - worse. They’re spreading their mission to other factions. Amity, Abnegation, and Candor haven’t gotten on board with her plans, according to my source, and Naomi’s angry. She and the others are obsessed, they’re not gonna stop until they know all the Divergents are dead. ”

“Why?” Dean’s eyes were wide as he watched his brother grow more frantic, his eyes full of fear.

Sam ran his hand through his hair, his face pained. “They’re threatened by you, or something like that. You don’t conform. You don’t think the same as the rest of us, your brain doesn’t work in the same way. You scare them.”

It was always the same crap. Dean didn’t fit in, and now his life was at stake because of it.

“You gotta be extra careful. I know how the Dauntless training works, they’ll be starting the mental stuff soon. Please Dean, don’t let them find out. Please.”

Dean patted his brother on the shoulder, and gave him a small, forced smile. “Don’t worry about me, Sammy. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Hey!” A voice from behind Dean interrupted them, and he whirled around. One of the Dauntless leaders, a friend of Jo’s named Pamela, was standing there, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “The truck’s all loaded. Let’s go.”

Dean turned back to his brother, but Sam was gone, leaving him staring at a blank cement wall. He blinked a few times, shook his head, and turned back to follow Pamela.

\---

Dean didn’t bring up Naomi for a few days, not until they were alone in the gym, their eyes drooping slowly in the wee hours of the morning. They’d forgone their attempts at boxing, content with just sitting in silence next to each other.

(Well, more like Dean convinced Cas to give it up. He was willing to do another workout, but just watching Cas made Dean tired.

“Are you even human?”

“No, I’m actually a robot, Dean. My main function is making you feel bad for skimping on our workouts.”

“Ooh, sarcasm. You wanna piece of me, Mr. Roboto?”

Cas had stuck his tongue out and joined Dean on the wall.)

Dean broke the silence though, he couldn’t help it.

“What was the deal with Naomi?”

Castiel closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Dean immediately regretted asking.  
“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want,” Dean continued.

“No, Dean. You deserve to know.” Cas swallowed and turned towards his friend. “Naomi - Naomi is my aunt. She practically raised me. I don’t remember my parents.” Dean’s heart ached at the sadness in Castiel’s voice. Cas never talked about his parents, but he always had the same haunted look in his eyes when the topic came up, the one Dean saw in Sammy’s eyes whenever someone mentioned Mary Winchester. The same one he knew probably reflected on his own face.

“I was always the good little soldier when I was a kid, I always listened to Aunt Naomi. She always paid special attention to me, which is probably why Zachariah hates me so much, and I was proud of that as a kid, but, when she got the Erudite leadership position, we grew apart. Without her - hold on me, everything I hated about the faction became much clearer, our differences more pronounced. It wasn’t that I didn’t belong in Erudite, exactly, but I wasn’t drawn to it. I’m not drawn to any of the factions, really, but Dauntless seemed like the best bet.”

“Well, I’m sure glad you chose Dauntless,” Dean said, sappily. Jeez, sometimes he was just full of mush.

“Me too, Dean.” Castiel curled against his shoulder. “Me too.”

\---

“Dean Winchester.”

He looked up at Jo, clipboard in hand, and got to his feet. He followed her into a bright room, not unlike the one Tessa had administered his placement test in. The chair was similar, the computer identical. Dean wondered if all the factions had the same ugly-ass rooms somewhere in their facilities.

“Take a seat, Dean.” Jo smiled at him kindly, and took her place behind the computer. Despite this, she still seemed somewhat distant. It was probably protocol to not chat with the initiates, no matter how well you knew each other. She fumbled around with some vials in front of her, tapped on the keyboard quickly, and turned back to Dean.

“As you may have ascertained, this is the beginning of the mental portion of your training.” She held up a small glass container of bright yellow liquid. “This vial contains serum that stimulated the part of your brain linked to fear. The transmitters in the serum allow me to see the images in your mind projected back to his computer.”

“You can see inside my mind?” Dean asked. Jo nodded in response.

“Wicked,” he breathed. She chuckled softly.

Dean leaned back in the chair and Jo handed him the vial. He downed it, and immediately started to feel a bit dizzy.

“Now,” she continued, “you may be confronted with some of your worst fears. Most people have about a dozen really bad ones. Just remember to be calm, and take deep breaths. You’ve got this, Dean.” Jo’s voice was fading out, her voice hazy. The last thing Dean saw before he blacked out was the warmth in her deep brown eyes.

He woke up on a Ferris wheel. Dean _hated_ Ferris wheels. There was an old abandoned one on the outskirts of town that Sam used to beg Dean to take him to. Even if Dean didn’t hate them, it would be pointless to go; it’d stopped working a few years back, and no one had the tools to fix it any more. Now, Dean found himself sitting in one of the rickety old baskets alone as it climbed higher in the darkening sky, operated by some phantom force. The world had an odd blueish tint, coloring everything an ominous grey.

The basket was climbing, higher and higher, and Dean’s breath was coming in sharp, short gulps. He was nearing the top now. The world was completely silent, as even the choppy machinery of the Ferris wheel had gone quiet. The only thing Dean could hear was the distant cawing of ravens, an eerie sound that swept over the barren landscape that surrounded the ride. The basket stuttered to a stop at the very top, and Dean’s palms were sweating, his heart beating frantically. His breath thudded out of his chest, enough that his lungs ached. Heights were one of his rudimentary fears, nothing complicated, but he figured the serum wouldn’t start out with something too intricate. _The serum._

This isn’t real. The bottom of the basket fell out and Dean was falling, falling towards the ground, and half of his mind was screaming, fear pulsing through him. The other half was calm. This isn’t real. It’s a hallucination. This isn’t real.

Dean jolted awake in the chair in the orange room, gasping for breath.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Jo was grabbing his shoulders, running soothing hands over his arms. “You’re okay.”

He was breathing better now, but still loud and uneven. When he finally got it under control, Jo let go of him and turned back to the computer. Dean put his head in his hands, running his fingers through the front of his hair.

“Dean, how long do you think you were in the hallucination?” Jo looked almost concerned, biting her lip between her teeth.

He thought for a moment. “I don’t know, maybe like fifteen minutes?”

“Try five.” Dean gaped at her.

“That’s almost three times better than the average,” Jo said. “I’ve never seen that before. I didn’t know it was possible, but somehow you were pulled out in a matter of minutes.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s that mean, Jo? Is that bad?”

“I’m not sure. How’d you do it?”

“For some reason, I knew it was a hallucination. That helped.”

Jo shook her head. “You’re something special, Winchester. I wouldn’t worry though, you must have a damn sharp mind, or something.”

Dean grinned at her. “I always told you I was a smart one, Harvelle.” She smiled back at him, fondly.

\---

“We still on for Thursday?”

“Uh, huh. I’ve got a brand new design to show you, I think you’re gonna love it. Jo helped me pick it up, and I think I’m gonna get it on my shoulder.”

Dean whirled around at the sound of Tessa’s voice. She was leaning against the doorway of the tattoo parlor, talking to Pamela. He slipped backwards into an alleyway, hiding in the shadows and feeling disgustingly creepy for it.

“Sounds good! See you then, Pam.” They waved goodbye and Tessa turned to lock up the parlor’s door.

“Dean. You can come out now.” He jumped, startled. Tessa’s back was still towards him.

“Oh, um, hi,” Dean said to her hair. “I was just in the area, you know. Just figured I would -”

“What do you want, Dean?” Tessa turned to face him now. She narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed. “It’s been a long day.”

“I was just wondering if - if you had advice for getting past the mental part of the training. Without getting caught, that is.” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper, and he watched as Tessa’s features softened. “I’m afraid they’ll figure it out.”

“You’re doing well, too well, on the hallucination tests, right?” Dean nodded. “Alright, well first thing is, you gotta let yourself be scared. I know that’s hard in the moment, and your brain doesn’t work like that, but when reality sets in during the dream, you have to remember that getting out isn’t the only objective, it’s also not getting caught. Don’t let the fear completely overrun your mind, but also don’t let them see you control the fear.”

Dean nodded again, thoughtfully. Don’t be different. Don’t be special. Just be normal, and you’ll be safe.

“Thanks, Tessa. How do you know so much about this, anyway?”

She hesitated for a second, her eyes darkening. “I - I had a sister. She was like you.” Dean’s throat tightened. “Couple years ago, she went through the Dauntless training. She could get out of those hallucinations within a couple minutes. Dauntless leadership got suspicious, somehow Erudite found out, and they sent someone to observe her.” Tessa stopped. She looked lost, scared, like she was stuck in some old memory. She probably was. “The last time - the last time I saw her was right before she went under. She hugged me and said ‘Tessa, whatever happens, you have to help the others,’ so I did. So I do. She never came out of that damn room. They told me she’d reacted badly to the serum. What a bunch of bullshit.”

She was close to tears now, angry ones, and Dean moved closer, pressing a soothing palm into her shoulder. He felt like crying, too.

“I’m sorry Tessa, I’m so sorry.”

Tessa looked up at him, fire in her eyes. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Dean Winchester. Just keep yourself alive, you hear?”

“I’ll do my best.”

\---

It was dark when Dean returned to his house, and all the lights were off inside. As usual, John wasn’t home. One moment, Dean was rummaging through his bag for the key, and the next, two strong pairs of hands were pushing him up against the door. He let out a cry, but it was muffled when one of his attackers slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Where’s Tessa?” Dean was disoriented, his head spinning, but he was able to discern the shapes of his assailers. They both wore black masks that covered every part of their faces except their eyes. One was a short, stocky guy and the other was a thin and brutal-looking girl.

“Where the hell did she go?” The girl removed her hand from Dean’s mouth, and he let out a few rasping breaths. When Dean didn’t answer, she shoved him harder into the wall. “Answer the question!”

“I - I don’t know,” he stammered out, still in shock. His instincts were kicking in; John Winchester might not have been around much, but he kept his sons prepared. Dean started pushing back against them, aiming concentrated kicks at their legs. “Get offa me.”

They lunged forward, grabbing at his arms and hair. “If you don’t tell us now,” the guy purred. “We’ll make you tell us.”

“Dude,” Dean choked out, “I barely know the lady. And if I did, why the fuck would I tell you?”

“Okay, that’s it.” He grabbed Dean’s wrist and twisted. Dean yelped, loudly. He twisted harder, and Dean could see little pinpricks of light flashing from behind his eyelids. _Shit_. His eyes were watering and he tried to pull his hand away and then, suddenly, the guy’s grip was gone. Someone, or something, had slammed into his attackers. They fell to the ground and Dean slid down the door. He looked up, and – his brain had to be fuzzier than he thought, because he was seeing _Castiel_ standing over the two dark figures like something out of a goddamn vision.

The masked assailants were a bit dazed, but they got to their feet. Cas squared his shoulders, ready to take them on. Dean tried to stand up and help him, but Castiel glanced back at him and muttered, terrifyingly low.

“Dean, stay down.” Weirdly enough, Dean listened.

He watched as Cas shoved them, taunted them, trying to distract them from Dean. He punched both of them, knocking them to the ground again.

“Now that I have your attention,” Castiel growled, “get the fuck away from here.” They scrambled backwards, looks of pure terror settling over their faces. After a few moments, they got to their feet, turned, and fled.

“Yeah, take that, motherfuckers,” Dean moaned, weakly. “You showed them, Cas.”

Castiel moved to his knees, reaching for Dean. “Are you okay, Dean?” His fingers hovered over Dean’s wrists, his eyes filled with worry.

“I’m fine, Cas.” Dean batted him away with his good hand. “They messed up my wrist a bit, that’s all. Just get us in the house. Key’s in my bag.”

He grabbed Dean’s bag and rifled through it, produced the key, and stood up to unlock the door. Dean followed him into the house, steering Cas towards the small living room. He plopped down on the sofa. Castiel watched him, warily, eyes trained on Dean’s wrist.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“You worry too much, Cas. But, I could probably use some ice. It’s in the kitchen.” He pointed Cas in the right direction. Castiel returned with ice cubes wrapped in a floral hand towel, one of Mary’s that John couldn’t bear to get rid of, and he placed it on Dean’s wrist. It shot icy spikes of pain up Dean’s arm, but he gritted his teeth and let his wrist become numb.

“That better?” Castiel asked. Dean nodded in response. Like he tended to do, though, Cas changed the subject abruptly. “What did they even want from you?”

“They wanted to know where Tessa is,” replied Dean.

“Tessa?” Cas squinted, his mind visibly whirring. “I think she administered my placement test.”

“Me too. And apparently, they thought I’d know where she is.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “But you know what’s even weirder? You, showing up right on time to save me. What the hell were you doing in this part of town?”

Castiel shrugged. “You weren’t at the gym. Charlie’s on a date with Jo. I couldn’t find Victor. I was bored.”

“Well, I’m mighty glad you decided to come bother me.” Dean chuckled.

“Same here,” Cas said seriously. “I - Dean, I just,” he stopped for a second, gathering himself. “I just need you to know that you’re really important to me. And I know those jerks weren’t gonna do much worse to you, but I can’t help thinking what if -”

“Cas -”

“No, shut up Dean. I need you to hear this. You’re my best friend, and you’ve shown me nothing but kindness since the beginning, and I’m just really grateful.”

Dean nodded, his throat tight. He didn’t know how to say it, but he had to tell Cas that _yes_ , he felt the same way, and the thought of losing him made him want to rip the world apart, crazy as it was to think that. So he settled with grabbing Castiel’s hand from his lap and giving it a quick squeeze. It wasn’t anything close to what he wanted to say, but Cas smiled softly, and Dean was pretty sure he got the message anyway.

\---

Dean woke up to Castiel hovering over him, his head tilted inquisitively and his eyes worried.

“Good morning, Dean,” said Cas, like it wasn’t totally weird to be standing over your best friend’s bed at seven in the morning.

“Good morning, freak,” responded Dean. “What are you doing?”

“I came to see if you were awake. And then you woke up. I’ve only been here for a minute or so. I’m not weird,” Cas said indignantly, arms crossed over his chest.

Dean chuckled. He tried to sit up, and winced when he put pressure on his wrist. Castiel moved forward instinctively, helping Dean sit on the edge of the bed.

“Ugh,” Dean groaned. “That’s not doing so hot.”

Cas handed him another bundle of ice, which he must have already had waiting, and Dean thanked him. The bed creaked when Castiel sat down next to him, their bodies close but not quite touching and Dean closed his eyes, still trying to shake off the tenacious chains of sleep. His wrist throbbed angrily.

“Shit.”

Castiel turned towards him, his forehead creased. “How does it feel?”

“Like I punched out Iron Man, Cas. With the suit on. I’m screwed.”

“It’ll heal, Dean. Don’t worry,” reassured Cas earnestly. Dean was hit, suddenly, with how honest Castiel was, with how much he genuinely cared. His warmth was hidden beneath his stoic exterior, but it was there. It shone out through his eyes.

“Not in time for the final Dauntless test.”

“Oh, right,” Castiel breathed. “Shit.”

“Not that I’m gonna pass the mental part anyways,” murmured Dean. He turned away from Cas, avoiding his questioning stare. “Not without them -” he stopped short.

“What are you talking about, Dean?”

Dean looked at Cas. He looked at his stupid, messy bedhead, even worse than usual after sleeping on a mattress on the floor next to Dean’s bed; he looked at those bright blue eyes, he looked and saw his best friend, the brave boy who’d jumped first into Dauntless’ dark pit, and then jumped into Dean’s life. So, Dean closed his eyes and took a leap of his own.

“I’m Divergent.”

\---

Castiel took it better than Dean expected. Dean thought he’d freak out, maybe even that he’d reject him entirely, but level-headed Castiel just looked Dean in the eyes and told him that it was going to be okay, that they’d figure it out as they went. It felt so good to get it off his chest, to know that someone was looking out for him, someone who didn’t care that he was different.

(“If the others find out, Dauntless is gonna kill me.”

“I’m not gonna let that happen.”)

It was Sunday, and they didn’t have training, so Dean put up a fight when Cas pushed him out of bed and towards the kitchen.

“What the fuck, Cas? It’s like seven in the morning on a Sunday. I just told you my biggest secret and what do I get in return? My psychotic best friend making me get dressed at an ungodly hour of the morning.”

“Shut up,” said Castiel, “and eat your breakfast.”

Dean grumbled under his breath, but did what he was told.

After they finished getting ready, which included stopping by Castiel’s dorm to change his clothes, and Dean finding Tessa at the tattoo parlor to warn her about the attack - she was worried, rightfully so, both for herself and about Dean’s wrist, but she thanked him for letting her know and told Dean not to worry about her, she could take care of herself - Dean followed him to a building on the outskirts of the Dauntless grounds.

“Where are we going?” asked Dean, panting a little, because keeping up with Castiel was hard work. The guy glided over the ground, and Dean almost had to jog to stay with him.

Castiel ignored his question and just told Dean to hurry up. He finally stopped in front of an old building, the bricks crumbling and the dead plants bowed to the ground solemnly. Dean stayed back as he watched Castiel sidle up to the door, its dark green paint peeling, and fiddle around with the rusty lock. When he seemed satisfied with the lock, he tugged at the door and it slid open slowly, creaking the entire way. Dean followed Cas into the building. Half the automatic lights still operated, apparently, and they blinked on when the pair entered, casting the area partly in light and otherwise in darkness.

The center of the room held another of those chairs, like the ones Tessa and Jo had sat him in, but this one wasn’t hooked up to a fancy computer.

“What is this, Cas?”

“They used to use this building for placement tests, back when each faction was allowed to run their own. Erudite decided that this method wasn’t trustworthy enough, so they centralized the tests and removed the affiliation with any one faction.” Cas moved into the shadows and grabbed another of the chairs, turning over his shoulder to talk to Dean while he dragged it next to the other chair. “There are old, unused buildings like this all over the place, but not many still have equipment like this one.”

“Okay, but we’re here why, exactly?” Dean helped Cas position the chairs in the center with his good hand, his other wrist still smarting.

Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out two vials of serum, setting them down on one of the chairs. “We’re going to practice. We’re going to get you through the mental test unnoticed.”

Dean nodded and gave Cas a small smile. He didn’t know what to say. _Thanks_ didn’t seem like quite enough. Cas sat down and waved Dean into the other chair. He reached over to hand one of the vials to Dean, pressing it gently into his palm.

“This serum is special. I had to make it myself.” Dean raised his eyebrows at this, and Castiel continued. “It allows us to both experience the fears of one person. We should probably go into my head, that way you can focus how a true Dauntless would act, rather than get caught up in your own fears.”

“Sure, that works,” replied Dean. “What are we supposed to do?”

“I’ll drink my serum first, and then you drink yours when I’m finished. After that, it shouldn’t take too long to get into my head.” Castiel popped his vial open and swallowed it all in one gulp. Dean followed him, dropping the vial into his lap when he was finished. Surprisingly, the liquid didn’t taste as bad compared to the others.

“You change the taste of this, or something?” Dean teased.

Castiel smiled sheepishly. “I have been known to mess around with the flavors of serums, yes.” Dean laughed, but it turned into a yawn halfway through.

“Here we go,” Dean said, sleepily. He reached across to Castiel’s armrest and tangled their hands together, instinctively seeking his friend’s comfort. Dean’s eyes drooped and slid shut just as Castiel squeezed his hand.

Dean opened his eyes on a long, narrow bridge, stretching far above Detroit. Castiel was on his left, balancing precariously on the thin rectangles of wood that composed the bridge. A wind washed over them, strong enough to ruffle their hair and rock the span of the bridge back and forth.

“You afraid of heights?”

“No,” Castiel shook his head. “I’m afraid of falling.”

The buildings on either side of the bridge seemed miles away. Dean looked down and immediately felt queasy. This isn’t real.

“It’s not real, Cas.” He reached out to steady himself on one of the thin rope rails. “We can just jump.”

“No,” said Castiel, hurriedly. “Divergent would jump. Dauntless would get to one of the buildings.” The wind picked up and he looked down, his voice shaking a little. “If you want to pass the test, if you want to avoid discovery, you have to do things like Dauntless would.”

Dean nodded his understanding. “How do you know so much about this stuff, Cas?”

“I’ll explain later. Right now, we have to practice being Dauntless. True Dauntless would find a strategy, a method to survive. They wouldn’t be able to recognize reality.”

Cas began to inch forward on the bridge, gesturing for Dean to follow. “Let’s go.”

They made their way across the wooden slabs, Dean hovering close behind Castiel. Cas stopped a few times, his throat visibly tightening when he looked downwards, but Dean urged him on. They were practically jogging across the bridge now, the run-down building on the other side moving closer and closer. Finally, they reached the end. Castiel leapt onto the steps of the building, turning around to help Dean up too. He pushed open the door, Dean close behind, and they tumbled through the doorway into darkness.

Dean blinked a couple times before he could get his bearings. He was practically on top of Castiel in some sort of dark box, and he could feel the walls moving closer.

“Let me guess. Claustrophobia?” Dean asked. Castiel nodded against his shoulder.

“You have to find a way to stop it. What would Dauntless do?”

He shifted a bit, trying to untangle himself from Castiel. Dean reached into his pocket and fished around for a few seconds before withdrawing the key he’d stuffed in his pocket after Cas had helped him into his house. He turned to the wall that was sliding closer, feeling around towards the bottom for some sort of opening. Dean dropped the key in his rush, and had to scramble around for it on the floor.

Castiel huffed against the back of his neck. “Take your time. I just love being trapped in this dark, shrinking box.”

Dean gritted his teeth, found a sliver of an opening, shoved the key under the door, and pushed back against it with his weight. The door grinded to a halt and the wall behind them suddenly disappeared, and they fell backwards.

This room was like the opposite of the last one, almost blindingly white, open and spacious. Dean had never seen anything like it at Dauntless. The two of them were sprawled in the center, and as they stood up, Dean could see that Castiel obviously recognized the place. His eyes went wide with fear, his hands clenching at his sides.

“Is this Erudite?” Dean asked, quietly.

“The last fear is always the worst fear,” responded Castiel. “Remember that.”

Dean started to reply, but he stopped short when he saw the tall woman in the corner, her back facing them. He recognized her immediately. Naomi’s dark bangs swung over her forehead as she turned around, a nefarious smile on her face.

“Castiel.”

Dean watched his friend shrink back. Cas hadn’t reacted this much to the other situations, and the blatant terror spreading across his features made Dean’s heart race.

“Castiel.” Another voice from beside them, and they swiveled around. Another Naomi stood to their right, the same smile in place. Both women were moving closer, menacing in their noisy high heels.

“Castiel.”

“Castiel.”

More copies joined them, surrounding Dean and Castiel.

“I just want to help you, nephew,” said one of the Naomi clones. “Make you better, smarter, stronger,” said another. “You care too much for other people’s problems, you always help them instead of thinking about yourself,” added a third. “I just want you to do what you’re told, for once.”

They were shoulder to shoulder now, Naomi copies bearing down on them from all sides, a cacophony of sugar-coated voices and clacking heels. Dean could feel Castiel trembling against his side.

This isn’t real.

“No,” Dean muttered to himself. “It’s real. Pretend it’s real. How do you stop it?”

“ _Do something, Dean_ ,” Castiel hissed.

So Dean did. He tried to swing at the Naomi in front of them, but she dodged his move easily. Dean turned to another, but that one was too fast. He pivoted on his feet and caught the Naomi behind him by surprise. Finally making contact, he pushed her, and she toppled into the copy on her left. They fell like dominoes, and disappeared, one by one, as they hit the floor. Dean and Cas were left alone, breathing heavily in the empty white room. The room, too, disappeared around them.

They heaved upwards in their chairs, surrounded only by the rickety old walls of the abandoned building. Dean’s hand was still wrapped around Castiel’s. They pulled apart slowly, blinking in the half-darkness.

“Well, that was something.” Dean broke the silence.

“Yes, it was indeed,” Castiel agreed. “Do you feel better about the test?”

Dean thought for a second.

“Yeah I do, Cas.” It was true. He’d gotten through the fear, albeit Castiel’s, without using his uncanny grip on reality. Cas had taught him to treat like them real situations, to act purely Dauntless, rather than Divergent. “Now I gotta make sure my wrist heals.”

Castiel nodded, thoughtfully, and proceeded to drag Dean back home for some ice.

\---

After stopping by Dean’s, they headed back to the dorms in search of their friends. Sunday afternoons were busy at the Dauntless dorms, filled with initiates getting one last chance to relax with their friends before the gruesome week of training that would follow.

Charlie bounded to the door when they knocked, and she wrestled it open, happily.

“Guess what?”

Castiel shrugged at her, and Dean laughed. Seeing Charlie so happy made him all bubbly inside.

“Victor passed his test!” She threw open the door to reveal Victor leaning on her bed, grinning, and Jo curled up on the same ratty couch that was in every dorm room.

“Dude,” Dean shuffled into the room, “You didn’t tell us you were taking the test.”

Victor looked down, timidly. “I didn’t want to tell anyone, in case, you know -”

“Victor,” Dean said sternly. “You were always gonna pass that test. Now take a little pride in yourself and realize that you just became an actual friggin member of Dauntless. Awesome, man!”

“Congratulations, Victor,” Castiel added. Charlie closed the door behind them and bounced over to Jo. She curled up next to her on the couch. Dean and Castiel moved towards the bed and sat down.

“I think a celebration is in order,” remarked Jo. She reached over the arm of the couch and into her bag, pulling out a clear container. “I nicked some cake from the dining hall during lunch.”

“Jo!” Charlie said, scandalized. “And here I thought you were the perfect little Dauntless commander.”

Jo smirked at her. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” She opened up the container and split the cake up with her hands. Dean fervently hoped her fingers were clean. Jo doled it out to each of them amongst their low chatter, and Dean gobbled his down quickly.

Dean sat back and listened to his friends, content with hearing about their days and sharing small smiles with Castiel every once in a while. He told them about his altercation, and Jo promised to go find some proper bandages for his wrist.

They talked until the sun started setting, soft rays of light filtering in through Charlie’s window, bathing the walls in pale orange. It lit up Victor’s face as he yawned.

“Whew, I’m wiped.”

Everyone said goodbye to Victor, offering their congratulations again, and Dean and Cas followed him soon after. They left Jo and Charlie giggling behind them, and headed towards Castiel’s dorm.

\---

Castiel was lucky. His dorm room had a small balcony that overlooked part of the city, and the setting sunlight spread over the wooden railing. They stopped before entering Castiel’s room, and leaned against the rail in unspoken agreement. Dean admired the view as they stood together, quietly. He thought about his test next week. With any luck, they would be standing here again next Sunday, finally fully-fledged members of Dauntless.

Dean sighed and Castiel broke the silence.

“Naomi taught me about the serums.”  
“Yeah?” Dean asked, his throat suddenly tight. He couldn’t get that nightmare out of his head, the duplicates bearing down on them. Castiel had been so wide-eyed, like Dean had never seen him before.

“It was - is - her specialty. They can do so much more than tap into your fears or place you in certain situations.” Cas stopped and rubbed a hand over his chin, before continuing. “There was one she wanted me to take, something new she had developed. Apparently, it utilized parts of your brain that most people can’t access, placed more focus on solely thinking with your mind, rather than your heart. That’s what she said, anyway. According to my sister Anna, it was – supposed to erase your emotions.” Dean watched Castiel’s face soften at the mention of his sister. He wondered about their relationship. He’d never heard Cas talk about her before, but she seemed important.

“So, I refused. Anna did, too, but she left Erudite completely. I have no idea where she is. She never showed up for her placement test.” Castiel turned away, his face hollowed by immense sadness, and Dean ached. In his bones, in his chest.

“One day, she’ll come back,” Dean said, fully believing it. He doubted anyone could stay away from Castiel for very long.

Cas composed himself, and nodded. “I hope so.” He turned back to Dean, his eyes shiny blue in the evening light. “I’ve never told anyone about this,” he added, quietly.

“Then why’d you tell me?” He was almost afraid of the answer.

“Because you’re different,” Cas said earnestly, his downturned mouth slowly replaced by a small smile.

Dean kissed him. He moved forward and kissed Castiel’s smile.

Christ, Dean was stupid. There was absolutely nothing more romantic than being kissed by your best friend after you told him your traumatizing childhood memories.

Surprisingly, Castiel went with it. He lit up as Dean pressed them together, and raised one hand to tuck his fingers under the hinge of Dean’s jaw, the other resting at the back of his head, scraping through the hair on the base of his neck. Dean shivered and smiled into the kiss, momentarily forgetting about tests and nightmares, his entire attention focused on the feel of Castiel’s lips beneath his.

Dean moved his hands to Castiel’s back, mindful of his own wrist, the thin shirt sun-warm under Dean’s hands, and Cas’s mouth even warmer. They moved tentatively, carefully against each other, but something inside Dean clicked into place. There was this feeling of unabashed rightness that always seemed to escape him in other areas of his life. Cas was _smiling_ against his spit-slick lips and Dean was completely, irrevocably, gone on him and the sunlight disappeared over their shoulders.

They broke apart slowly, but not too far, keeping their faces still close. Castiel’s fingers still traced patterns through the hair on the nape of Dean’s neck. They were still close enough to share each other’s breath, to bump their noses and rest their foreheads against each other.

“Holy shit,” Castiel breathed softly, his breath tickling Dean’s lips.

“Holy shit,” Dean repeated, dazedly.

Castiel removed his hands and Dean mirrored him, disliking the way he lost the warmth from Cas’ back. Cas stepped back, a smile resting on his features, and no matter how much Dean wanted to kiss that smile again and again, he stepped back too, knowing that it was late and they needed to get one more night of good rest before the busy week ahead.

“Thanks for listening to my problems,” Castiel whispered, “and for, you know, that -”

“Cas,” Dean said seriously. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right? I don’t care how crazy or shocking or messed-up it is, I know how good it feels to get that stuff off your chest, and I want to know everything about you. The good and the bad. Understand?”

Cas nodded, gratefully, his eyes portraying the true relief of having someone that cared, someone who listened, someone who gave a shit about you in this fucked-up reality, and Dean wouldn’t trade that look for anything in the world.

\---

The following morning, Dean was violently awakened by Victor, Charlie, and Castiel banging on his bedroom window.

“What the hell do you guys want?” he groaned, sleepily. He checked his watch. “My alarm isn’t set to go off for another hour.”

“I told you he’d be grumpy,” he heard Castiel say smugly, muffled through the walls of his house. Dean just knew that Victor and Charlie were rolling their eyes in response, sharing a bemused look. It happened often.

“Victor needs to show us something,” Charlie called. “It’s important. So get off your butt and get dressed. Hurry up.”

Dean’s grumbles of protest went ignored. It was a big day. His final test was scheduled for the late morning. Charlie’s was to follow on Tuesday morning, and Castiel was slotted for Thursday afternoon. The final tests usually consisted of both parts, one immediately preceding another, but John Winchester had finagled some sort of deal with the leadership to allow Dean to finish his physical testing on Friday, hopefully allowing his wrist enough time to heal.

He threw on his uniform, quickly grabbed some breakfast, and brushed his teeth. Dean did not invite the others inside. Annoying best friends that woke him up at an ungodly hour of the morning did not deserve to sit on his awesome couch. He made it outside in record time, and they dragged him in the direction of the main Dauntless building.

Charlie and Victor took the lead, Dean and Cas lagging behind, their shoulders brushing occasionally and their eyes meeting with a smile.

“How’d you sleep?” Castiel asked quietly, making conversation.

“Oh,” Dean said. “It was fucking fabulous until these three idiots decided it was a good idea to kidnap me from my bed.”

Cas chuckled. “Well it looks like someone’s a little grumpy in the mornings.”

“Don’t patronize me.” Dean frowned at him. “And dude, look who’s talking. You threw your cell phone at my head last time I tried to wake you up before seven.”

Castiel contemplated this. “Hmm, that is true. But on the other hand-”

“Boys!” Victor exclaimed, whirling around to face them. “Stop flirting and get up here. We’re almost there.”

Charlie giggled and Dean and Cas grumbled in unison, but they didn’t deny it. They picked up their pace and settled in next to Charlie and Victor. The four of them reached a building adjacent to the Dauntless headquarters and Victor led them around the back. He grabbed hold of an old rickety ladder and scaled it with practiced ease, motioning for the others to follow. Charlie scampered across the rungs, and Dean and Castiel followed tentatively, shooting uneasy glances towards the ground. She reached out a hand to pull Dean up, and he turned around to do the same for Cas. Once all four of them had feet planted solidly on the roof, Victor beckoned them over to the side of the building.

“Look,” he said, pointing to the back entrance of Dauntless headquarters. Dean’s heart dropped when he peered over the rooftop and caught a glimpse of the action below. There were multiple trucks, their backs open, and palettes of identical boxes were loaded out of them. The area was dead silent, the movements of the workers concentrated and methodical. But perhaps most worrying of all was Naomi, smack-dab in the center of the operation, surrounded by her dark-suited sycophants. Dean could feel Castiel tense against his shoulder.

“What the hell is Erudite doing here?” Charlie asked, fear creeping into her voice. She didn’t know as much about them as Dean did, but she wasn’t stupid. Charlie was perceptive enough to understand that they were dangerous, and this whole thing was a thousand kinds of suspicious.

“I don’t know,” came Victor’s grim response. “They’re here every morning. For the past week, at least. Same thing, each day. I wish I - ”

“They’re unloading boxes of serums,” interrupted Cas, his eyebrows knitted across his forehead and his hands locked behind his back, twisting anxiously. Dean lightly covered Castiel’s hands with one of his own, reassuring him. Naomi didn’t belong here, those serums didn’t belong here, and both of them knew it. He leaned into Dean.

“What does that mean?” asked Charlie, her worried face mirroring Castiel’s.

“Anything,” Castiel answered. “They could just be more testing serums, but knowing Naomi, my bet is on something much more sinister.”

“Knowing Naomi?” Victor looked puzzled, rightfully so.

“All initiatives scheduled for morning testing must report immediately.” A disembodied voice boomed over the loudspeakers, causing them to jump in surprise. Dean gulped, and Castiel opened his palms under Dean’s hand, grabbed hold of it, and squeezed encouragingly.

“I’ll explain everything in a second,” Castiel said, turning towards Dean. “Good luck, Dean. Remember what I told you. You can do it, I know you can. You’re ready.” His eyes were so open and truthful, and Dean wanted to scream when confronted with how much Castiel believed in him. It was overwhelming and scary and gave him just the right amount of confidence to smile at his friends and march down towards the testing room. He could hear strains of his their conversation as he walked away, Cas explaining about Naomi and his past. Dean was worried, with reason, about the whole operation Victor had exposed, but he had other, more immediately pressing things to focus on at the moment. Namely, surviving this test without getting the faction leadership on his ass.

\---

John Winchester was waiting for his son outside the testing room. Dean startled for a moment, thrown by his father’s presence, but he composed himself quickly.

“Son,” John said, his voice full of measured precision, picking his words with a carefulness that always drove Dean crazy.

“Dad,” Dean nodded to him. He couldn’t handle this right now - his father made him nervous, made him overthink everything and second-guess himself - and Dean just wanted to step into that testing room and get this over with. Dean pushed past him, intent on entering the room as quickly as possible. He knew his father might have choice words for his disrespect later on, but right now he only cared about one thing.

“Good luck then,” John boomed over Dean’s shoulder, his tone surprised and maybe a little angry, but Dean ignored that. “I’ve been assigned to go help Amity with defense,” he continued. “Won’t be around for a while. Just thought I should let you know.”

“Okay. Thank you,” Dean said, and slid open the heavy grey door. His heart started thumping, harder, when he saw what confronted him, so he whirled around to take a deep breath, pushing his palms hard against the door as he pulled it closed. Crowley stood in the corner, surrounded by a few of his hard-faced henchwomen and henchmen. The bigger surprise were the Erudite bigwigs in the mix; the neatly-pressed suits were a dead giveaway. He turned back around and his breathing slowed, and he felt a little lighter when he realized who was conducting the test.

Tessa, in all her serene glory, was tapping away at the chair-computer machine, her features soft and calming when she turned towards Dean. She gave him a small, reassuring smile, and motioned him towards the chair. As Dean moved forward, Crowley stepped out of the shadows and began to issue instructions.

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester,” started Crowley, his voice full of sharp knives and fake happiness, “You will be completing solely the mental portion of your Dauntless testing today, as we so graciously granted you a respite on the physical part until your wrist heals.”

Dean murmured his obligatory thanks and sat down in the chair, still watching Crowley as he moved closer.

“My friend Tessa here –” and it made Dean feel pretty damn good, considering the situation, to see her bristle at that choice of words – “will be administering you a serum much like the ones you have encountered in practice. It will tap into your deepest and darkest fears, and my panel here will watch as you deal with the terrors your mind creates. The equipment here,” Crowley gestured to the computer, “allows us to see into your head as the action takes place, and we will make judgments on your ability to conform to this faction. Only true Dauntless will make it past these tests.”

Dean nodded his understanding and Tessa began to work around him, adjusting a device onto his head that looked similar to headphones. It likely allowed the others to see what was happening inside Dean’s head. He knocked back the serum she handed him, like always, and the world faded into familiar darkness.

Light. Heat. Flames danced around Dean when he opened his eyes. Shit. Dean couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow, he could only stare at the fire consuming the house he grew up in. There were screams. It jolted parts of him he tried not to think about, memories he kept locked deep inside, a fire he pretended to forget. He didn’t know where he was.

Yes he did. This isn’t real (it was real, years ago, except he was carrying his little brother, and his father was shouting, and his mother never smiled or laughed or kissed him again because she never escaped, but that didn’t matter now).

 _Find a solution_ , said Castiel’s voice in his head. Dean ignored the screams and heat to rush to the open window on his left. He peered out and his eyes fell on the ground below. He was as high up as the second story, at least. The bright flames cut through the darkness. He could jump. If he jumped, it’d all be over, he’d be back in that chair, the fire would be gone, his mother would still be dead, and he’d fail his test.

 _Find a solution_. Cas was yelling this time.

Dean looked out the window again, and he noticed the shadowy limbs of a nearby tree brushing up against the burning house. He made his decision.

Dean crawled through the window, grasping the ledge for dear life, and he kicked his legs into the side of the collapsing wall, inching his body down until he could feel the leaves of the tree against his ankles. He took a deep breath, twisted himself around, and let go of the window ledge. Dean scrambled in the air for a second before grabbing hold of one of the branches and swinging himself into the tree.

He shimmied down the trunk towards the ground, trying not to think about the hot fire against his back. When his feet touched solid ground, Dean let out a breath and raced towards the front of the house. He could feel the spray from the fire engines splash across his face, a cold shock against his skin, and, as he watched the arc of water from the hoses spray his flame-eaten house the scene melted away.

Dean’s hands were still wet when the next scene slid into focus, but - it wasn’t water, it was blood slipping through his fingers. He looked around, eyes wild, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the body on the ground before him.

Castiel was bleeding out at Dean’s feet, his dark hair matted against his forehead, his eyes wide and dull, like someone had come along and leached out all their rich, vibrant color. Dean dropped to his knees, his eyes watering. Somewhere in the back of his mind he _knew_ this wasn’t real, but he could hardly ignore the sight of his best friend, his face scared and pleading, as the life slowly drained out of him. He forgot himself, the test, everything – except saving Castiel.

“Cas,” Dean choked out, rattling his friend’s shoulder gently, grasping for his attention. “Where does it hurt? Where are you bleeding?”

“Dean,” Castiel whispered softly. “It’s too late.”

Fear rushed through Dean’s veins, and he shook Castiel again, begging for an answer. There was no way in hell he was gonna let Cas go without a fight. His hands scrambled over Castiel’s torso, looking for a wound, and he found one, fittingly, over Castiel’s heart, to match the hurt spreading over Dean’s own heart, inside his chest. With trembling fingers, Dean ripped his shirt across the bottom, balling up the fabric and pressing it frantically over Castiel’s injury. Blood soaked the cloth and Castiel was even paler now, his eyes sliding closed, but he pushed them open once and a while to stare up at Dean. Nothing was changing, he was just getting worse, and Dean was gonna lose it. He was crying now, really crying, and his heart was breaking, and he was only twenty years-old and his best friend was dying in his arms, and -

Calm down, Dean. This isn’t Cas. Cas is with Victor and Charlie, probably practicing or goofing off, and he’s gonna smile when he sees you and you’re gonna hug him so hard he can’t breathe.

Dean took another deep breath. It was too late to save Castiel now, this Castiel, but he still needed to pass the stupid test. Dauntless would accept this, would cut their losses and face the situation bravely. He slowed his breathing, wiped his face on his torn-up t-shirt, and reached out towards Cas again. He pulled Castiel into his arms, rocking him back and forth, doing his best to stay calm. Castiel’s breathing was too shallow, now, his eyes almost closed, his face completely white.

“It’s gonna be okay, Cas,” Dean whispered, holding his best friend close. “It’s gonna be okay.” He ran blood-stained fingers through Castiel’s damp hair, soothing him, and Cas whispered a quiet “thank you, Dean” as he faded away.

The world crumbled around him, Dean himself the only thing remaining, and he braced for the final part. He opened his eyes in one of the Dauntless training rooms, with Crowley at his shoulder. He was pressing a gun into Dean’s hand.

“Kill him.”

Dean looked up. His brother was standing across the room from him, frightened and alone. Dean flinched. He’d had this dream (nightmare) before, usually after one of Crowley’s particularly psychologically-damaging training sessions. He’d never been able to do it. Dean’s heart dropped when he realized that shooting Sam was probably the only way to finish this godforsaken test without letting the faction leadership know he was Divergent.

Crowley pressed the pistol into Dean’s hands. He curled his fingers around it, shaking, unable to look up at his brother. If he looked at Sam, even this fake version of Sam, for too long, it’d all be over. He’d fail. Crowley faded away behind him, leaving Dean alone with a fidgeting Sam. The worst part of the nightmare was that Sam never said or did anything. Dean’s hands were trembling; this could be over in a second without having to release the bullet, if he wanted, but Sam, the real Sam, would never forgive him if he got himself killed for being different.

He raised the gun, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger. The sound crashed through his eardrums, and was still ringing when he jolted awake in the testing room. It was over. Tessa patted his arm reassuringly as she removed the equipment from his body, and Crowley and the others talked quietly amongst themselves.

“Are you alright?” Tessa murmured.

Dean took a few deep breaths, leaning into her touch, and nodded. She glanced around the room and gave Dean a quick thumbs-up when she saw that no one was watching. He knew it wasn’t over, not even close, but Tessa seemed to think it went well and he felt immensely relieved. He was gonna have nightmares about what he encountered in the test for weeks, but at least he’d likely have them in his own bed, not out on the streets, or even worse, not at all.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” sneered Crowley from the corner. “You will know your results by the end of the week.”

One of the neatly-pressed Erudites, a woman with medium-length curly dark hair and sharp features, took the lead, and the rest of the panel followed her out of the small room. Crowley smirked at Dean as he passed and Dean looked away, finding Tessa’s quiet smile a much more favorable option to look at. Eventually, she ushered Dean out as well, wishing him luck on his physical test. Dean thanked her, and rushed off to find his friends.

\---

Dean could only find Victor, who was deservedly relaxing in his room. He gave Victor a glossed-over account of his test, and thankfully, he understood that Dean wasn’t too keen on talking about what went down. Victor was the same way, not too good at talking emotions. He informed Dean that Charlie and Cas were doing weight training, so Dean left Victor to himself and headed back home. His wrist was, thankfully, feeling much better, and Dean knew it would be fully healed quite soon.

Castiel showed up at Dean’s house later in the evening. He was smiling, and a little sweaty, but gloriously alive and healthy. He barged into Dean’s room, demanding to know how it went, but Dean didn’t say anything. He just took one look at Cas and his blazing blue eyes, and strode forward to wrap him up in a tight hug. Castiel leaned in, resting their heads softly against each other. Dean brushed his hand up and down Cas’s back, relishing the feel of his warm skin, the knobs of his spine. Castiel spread his own hands across the expanse of Dean’s back, his touch reassuring, and Dean felt his knees go weak, all the fear and nervousness and uncertainty rushing out of him in waves, and Castiel held him steady.

“Shh,” Castiel whispered, nuzzling Dean’s neck. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re okay.”

“No,” Dean said into his hair. “You’re okay. Thank god.”

They pulled away slowly, untangling but still staying close. Castiel smelled good, like the outdoors, like a star-painted night sky.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

Dean shook his head, but went on anyways.

“There was a lot of fire, at first.” Castiel tensed. He knew about Mary Winchester and Dean’s aversion to flames. “I almost jumped, got it all over with, but your stupid voice was yelling at me.”

Cas grinned at this, shoving Dean playfully on the shoulder. Dean could see that he was trying to keep the mood light, and he appreciated Castiel’s attempts greatly. If there was one thing Dean and Sam had taught each other growing up, it was that humor always made the bad stuff easier.

“You love my voice,” Castiel growled, impossibly deeper than usual, and it sent the kind of shivers down Dean’s spine that seemed terribly inappropriate for their current topic of discussion.

Dean swallowed, hard, and continued. “I got out of that one pretty quickly. And then -” He stopped, composing himself. Castiel grimaced, most likely reading the agony on Dean’s face, and moved closer. He pushed Dean onto the bed, sitting down next to him amidst the old wooden frame’s groans of protest, and rested their shoulders together. Dean could feel Castiel’s eyes on the side of his face, but he was grateful, so grateful, that they weren’t facing each other anymore, and Dean could just close his eyes and lean into Castiel’s touch as he recounted the nightmare.

“Then it was you.” Castiel froze for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. Dean hesitated. He could lie and pretend all he saw was something more trivial. Pretending would be easier than admitting how much it scared him and how much Castiel meant to him, how seeing Castiel lying in the grass had ripped a new hole in his chest that he wished would just disappear.

But he didn’t. Because Castiel deserved to know, and Dean knew he’d tell the truth if he’d been in Dean’s position. More than that, he knew, deep down, Castiel felt this heart-wrenching connection, too. Knew that, no matter what, Castiel would always be there to catch him if he fell, and vice-versa, and Dean wanted him to be there, to kiss him and laugh with him and escape the confines of this godforsaken society and why the hell couldn’t he say this stuff out loud?

“You were there, you were bleeding out in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it, and Cas, it was so goddamn scary. I couldn’t do anything and I had to watch it happen, and that was the point of the whole thing. The point was that one of the scariest things my mind could imagine was losing you, and you have to know that, okay?”

Dean was speaking quickly now, and he snuck a glance at Cas, whose eyes were wide and glassy and all Dean could think in that moment was _holy shit, he’s beautiful_. Here he was, this person who’d stormed his way into Dean’s life and become so important to him, and– oh god, he loved Castiel so much.

 _Shit_.

“I know,” Castiel said. “I know, I know, I know. Same here, Dean.”

Dean swallowed. “Good,” he responded, weakly, heart battering against his fragile chest.

Cas kissed him. Hands came up to frame Dean’s face, and Castiel’s lips were on his, and Christ was it good. It was fierce, scorching hot from the get-go, Castiel tilting upwards and licking his way into Dean’s mouth. Dean was surprised, breathless, for a second, but he got with the program pretty quickly. He knew this was a cop-out, that they should probably be talking about their feelings – though they were both pretty cowardly at that, it also made their bond stronger because it taught them to rely on a different, deeper sort of communication –rather than pressing them against each other’s lips, but sometimes actions spoke louder than words, and Dean was perfectly okay with that.

Their bodies turned towards each other, and Dean ended up with his back against his pillows, chest-to-chest with Castiel, as he pressed warm, sucking, brazen kisses to Dean’s jaw and neck. Cas moved back a little, tentatively, and Dean let out a tiny whine. It was high and embarrassing, but Castiel’s laugh in return was warm and low, and Dean felt his blood rush inexplicably south.

Castiel pushed him backwards, sliding firmly into Dean’s lap. Their lips moved together again, and Dean placed his fingers gently over Cas’s chest, hovering over the buttons in a silent request for permission. Cas leaned up into Dean’s touch and pulled his mouth away, watching Dean’s hands with greedy, dark eyes. His cheeks looked ridiculous, stained pink, but Dean was sure his face wasn’t any better off. He slipped open the clasps of Castiel’s black button-up exercise shirt as Cas’s own hands moved to catch in Dean’s hair. A swoop jolted down Dean’s spine as Cas kept running his fingers through Dean’s short strands.

Dean kissed his way down Castiel’s chest, moving his hands lower and lower, before finally reaching the top of Cas’s pants. Cas shuddered when Dean ghosted his fingers underneath the belted fabric.

“Cas?” Dean breathed against his belly button. “Is this - is this okay?”

“Oh, it’s definitely okay.” Castiel let his low laugh loose again and god, Dean’s body was searing. Cas was patient and warm and so fuckin’ beautiful above him and Dean felt completely out of his element, so overwhelmed by everything that was Cas that all he could do was smile against his chest, stupidly and brilliantly happy. Castiel choked a little when he looked down and saw Dean smiling against his skin, and he smiled back. They stared at each other, grinning like a couple of idiots, for a few moments, before Dean remembered that they could be doing much more interesting and _active_ things than gazing into each other’s eyes. Like slip his hands under Castiel’s pants. Which he did. Super gracefully and slyly, obviously, because Dean wanted to think he knew enough to be a damn pro at this. Cas bucked upwards at the touch, lips finding Dean’s neck.  
“Dean,” he panted hotly into Dean’s ear. “Oh.” And then: “Take your damn shirt off.”

Dean complied, removing his hands from Cas for a second to shed his t-shirt, before moving back to tug Cas’s belt off.

“Off,” he grunted to Castiel’s pants, as if they could magically walk themselves off Cas’s legs. Weirder things had happened. But alas, Cas pulled them down himself, wriggling out of them as he kept his mouth attached to Dean’s jaw. Castiel’s boxers were grey and, oh, tight and pulled down past his hipbones and Jesus _fuck_. Dean let his fingers trail across Castiel’s hardening cock, relishing the quiet, stilted whimpers Cas let out in response, but he found a few escaping his own mouth when Cas fuckin’ leered down at him and snapped his hands to Dean’s hips, undoing the button on his jeans and shimmying them down his thighs.

Dean couldn’t stand not to touch, so he reached under the waistband of Cas’s boxers and slid his fingers down until they could hold Cas’ cock, heavy and good in his hands, while he stifled Castiel’s frankly unfair moans with his spit-slick lips. He flipped them over so Cas, shirt long gone, was the one with his back flush against the pillows. Cas looked like he was about to lose his goddamn mind, his eyes unfocused as he sucked in a shaky breath, and Dean was sure he didn’t look much better. Wanting to touch more and more, he trailed lavish kisses down Castiel’s chest, hands still working around Cas’s cock as he pushed his underwear out of the way until it was all but forgotten. Dean snuck a glance up at Castiel’s face – he looked like a goner, and it was fucking glorious –so he just went for it, sucking Cas down as best he could.

“Dean,” Cas whined, as Dean licked around him and Cas’s hips were going fuckin’ crazy, pistoning movements, so Dean slid back a little until he was only mouthing at the tip of Castiel’s dick, letting Cas take a breath and get his movements under control. “ _More_ ,” Castiel chastised, indignantly, and Dean just laughed around his cock because Cas was a pushy motherfucker and Dean _loved_ it. Dean moved to swallow him down again, head bobbing, and Castiel threaded long fingers through his hair, tugging it with just enough pressure and mussing it up.

Cas gasped out that he was close, so Dean pulled off and quickly replaced his mouth with his fist, jacking him steadily.

“C’mon Cas, c’mon,” Dean murmured, and Castiel removed his hands from Dean’s hair to clutch at the sheets, head thrown back. Cas came, suddenly and gloriously, going slippery around Dean’s fingers, with a couple of short whimpers. Dean, wanting to stay close, grinned against his stomach as they sunk down together into the bed.

Dean was still hard, achingly so, and Cas looked fuckin’ pleased as he flipped them over again, reaching graceful hands into Dean’s boxers and deftly roaming around his cock, driving Dean crazy with his stupid messed-up hair and nimble fingers and bright eyes and the way he pressed little sucking kisses onto Dean’s neck. Dean bucked underneath him, trying – and failing, miserably at that, but he didn’t care a bit –to reign in his moans, and he was so so so close, and -

“Jesus fuckin’ _Christ_ ,” Dean huffed out. “Cas. Oh god, Cas.” His eyes were closed now, squeezed shut, and Cas was jerking him right to the edge and that was _it_. Dean came with a low growl, quickly swallowed by Castiel’s lips, and they collapsed around each other, their limbs tangled and their mouths close.

The exhaustion of the day hit Dean all at once, and if Castiel’s drooping eyelids were any indication, he was feeling pretty similarly. Dean pulled him close and wrapped around him like the shameless cuddler he was. They were loose and boneless, sweaty and smiling, and Dean wished that their lives were simpler and he wasn’t built wrong. He wanted so much, he wanted to _give_ so much to Cas, that his chest ached. The little flicker in his heart felt unbelievably strong, strong enough that he was sure Cas could feel it with their chests pressed together.

“You wanna stay here tonight?” Dean asked against Cas’s temple. Cas let out a happy noise of confirmation in response, pressing them tighter together. Dean felt so peaceful, comfortable, and secure with Castiel tucked against his back, sensations he knew he hadn’t felt since he was four years old.

**_Chapter 3_ **

Dean woke up warm, warm, warm, his head resting under Cas’s chin and their limbs tangled together. Cas was a frickin’ furnace or something, but it was welcome in Dean’s chilly tundra of a bedroom. Lifting his head to check the time, Dean found the intense red of the alarm clock glaring back at him, and groaned when he saw the blinking numbers.

Castiel stirred behind him, muttering sleepily, and Dean turned to lay his head level with Castiel’s, their noses practically brushing on the pillow. Cas blinked his eyes open slowly, smiling when he saw Dean’s face inches away from his own.

“Hi,” Cas said, drowsily, and Dean’s heart went on red alert, all systems go, firing on every cylinder.

“Hi,” Dean returned, totally calmly and coolly, like there wasn’t a hammer inside his chest. Dean was so so so motherfuckin’ smooth that he leaned forward and kissed Cas like a pro, with soft lips and a little bit of teeth. Some very interesting, enjoyable noises got involved too; Dean was sure some were his own, and he didn’t care.

Cas pulled back with a sigh, hair so endearingly messy. Even in badass Dauntless, Dean wanted nothing more than to lay here and run his fingers through it all day.

“It’s probably time to get up, right?” Castiel asked, trying to crane his neck to see the alarm clock.

Dean nodded, reluctantly, protesting the loss of warmth when Cas rolled to the other side of the bed and sat up.

“Ugh,” Cas groaned in response. “I can’t believe I found someone who only likes me for my awesome cuddling abilities.”

No!” Dean said, indignantly. He thought for a second, but he couldn’t think of an adequate response, so he picked up a sock from the floor and threw it at Cas’s head, instead. He missed. Badly.

Cas shook his head and turned away to pick up the fallen sock. His aim was considerably better than Dean’s, so it hit Dean square on the forehead. Cas laughed at the look on Dean’s face.

Ouch,” he said.

“Oh, toughen up, Winchester.”

“Winchester?” Dean asked, amused. He bent down to grab the sock off the floor, and whipped it at Castiel’s stomach. Even though his wrist twinged a bit at the effort, there was no major pain, and Dean was incredibly relieved. Cas returned the throw easily, hitting Dean in the face.

“Oof,” Dean exclaimed. “As much as I’d love to have a sock fight with you all day, we should actually get dressed. Do you need to borrow any clothes? We probably don’t have time to head back to your dorm before breakfast.”

Cas nodded, smiling slyly. “Who could possibly turn down an offer to wear the extraordinary Dean Winchester’s clothing?”

This time, Cas got a faceful of pants. “Horrible. You’re horrible,” Dean chuckled. Cas was only a bit slimmer than him, so Dean reached into his closet and grabbed his smallest t-shirt and pair of pants. He threw those at Castiel too. Much to Dean’s delight, Cas was already wearing an extra pair of Dean’s boxers from when they’d gotten cleaned up the night before.

(“Dean?”

“Whuzzit, Cas?”

“You better not be falling asleep over there. We have to take a shower or something. This is kinda disgusting.”

“Huh? Hmm, fine. Whatever. But we’re taking one together.”

“Of course, Dean.”

Needless to say, once Dean got out of bed and into the warm spray of the shower with Castiel’s hands moving all over him, he wasn’t the least bit bitter about Cas forcing him out of bed.)

They dressed quickly, each of them pretending like they totally weren’t admiring the view. Cas looked damn good in Dean’s clothes, if he said so himself. For his part, Castiel just crossed his arms over his chest and told Dean to keep his eyes to himself if he wanted to get to breakfast on time.

Dean walked shoulder-to-shoulder with Cas the whole way there with nervous anticipation thrumming through his veins. After all, Charlie and Cas still had their entire tests to complete, and Dean himself was only halfway done.

The area around the dining hall was oddly quiet when they arrived. Cas noticed it too, but he just shrugged his shoulders at Dean, confused. Dean became even more confused when they entered the hall. Even though every Dauntless initiate was crowded inside, the room was silent except for their footsteps, and all the benches and tables were gone. Dean’s stomach grumbled, making the loudest noise in the entire room. He was hungry, and it didn’t look like they had any food. He turned to Cas, but his friend was gone, already lost in the swarm of people. Crowley appeared on the balcony ahead of them, surrounded by the same people that’d been in Dean’s testing room yesterday.

“Initiates,” he intoned, and Dean felt his blood go ice-cold when everyone in the room swiveled their heads towards Crowley in perfect unison. It was fuckin’ creepy. “Listen up.”

Dean moved his head slowly, scanning the crowd for Victor, for Charlie, for Cas. He didn’t see any of them. Dean took a few deep breaths, steadying himself. This was weird, yes, that everyone had suddenly turned into robot-zombies, their attention trained on Crowley, but he would deal with it. Just like he dealt with everything else life threw at him. He wished Cas was next to him.

“I want everyone to form four neat lines,” Crowley continued, and the mass of people immediately began to organize themselves, lining up without saying a word. “Don’t ask questions. We’ll be moving in a nice, orderly fashion from now on, got it?” The others – people, though right now they seemed a lot more like robot zombies – nodded. Dean’s very bones were tingling; there was something wrong, so very very wrong, about this. Crowley was commanding the other initiates - controlling them - and Dean felt no compulsion to follow his orders because he was not in some sort of strange trance like the others had fallen into.

He watched as Crowley and his minions climbed down from the balcony, dispersing themselves among the lines. He wanted to run or scream, do something, _anything_ , different as he noticed Crowley heading towards him, but he kept his feet firmly planted on the ground, neatly tucked between the other people in line.

“Good morning,” Crowley said to Dean, smiling wickedly.

“Good morning,” Dean returned, flatly, keeping his hands steady against his sides and resisting the urge to use them to wipe that smug smile off Crowley’s face. He couldn’t give himself away. He’d seen this movie, and he knew it ended badly for the one who was different.

“How are you feeling, Dean?”

“Fine,” he said, eyes facing forward, voice monotone. Crowley sneered at him and moved on, until he was approached by one of his followers and began to explain something to him.

“They are able to see and hear us under the serum, but they don’t process it like normal. Naomi cooked this batch up special. They are much more receptive to our command and will do practically anything we ask. It’s perfect.”

Dean clenched his fist at Crowley’s sinister chuckle.

“What’s going on?” came another voice from behind Dean, low and scared, one he didn’t recognize. Dean wanted to turn around, wanted to turn around so bad, but he didn’t. “What’s happening?”

The voice was full-on panicked now. Dean wanted to tell whoever it was to stop and pretend to go with the flow for now. He desperately wanted to help, but he couldn’t. Not without blowing his own cover too. A small part of Dean flooded with relief because that he wasn’t crazy after all; he wasn’t the only one that hadn’t been turned into a zombie-robot.

“What are we doing? Hello? Anyone?” The voice seemed to be addressing people in the crowd, but no one responded.

Crowley laughed again, and Dean felt sick to his stomach.

“Divergent,” he announced. “How interesting.”

Dean heard Crowley’s gun cock, and closed his eyes in a panic, hands trembling at his sides. He didn’t want to see this. A shot rang out through the dining hall.

The voice fell silent.

Dean felt bile rise in his throat. His line began moving forward and he shuffled along with them, trying to ignore the sound of the gunshot on repeat in his head. The lines were heading towards the entrance of the dining hall now; no one had reacted to the shooting. He followed his line towards the door, facing forward, resisting every instinct he had to look around him in a desperate attempt to find his friends for any kind of comfort in this bizarre, frightening situation. Dean wondered where the other Dauntless leaders were. Surely Crowley must have kept his plan, whatever it was, away from the other members of Dauntless. Jo, Pamela – there was no way they would have agreed to this. Dean felt an acute flash of worry mixed with anger. If the other leaders weren’t here, who knows what Crowley might have done to them to keep them quiet, to keep them away. If they were hurt, they’d be hell to pay.

A gun, one of the semi-automatic rifles the initiates had been practicing with for months, was pressed into Dean’s hands as he exited the dining hall. Shit. This was serious. This was so fuckin’ serious, Crowley had somehow fed the initiates one of Naomi’s serums and was now marching them out and arming them. Dean wished Cas or Sam had told him more about Erudite and Naomi, not to mention the way she would think. Because he had no fucking idea what to expect.

They headed out towards the train tracks, and Dean could hardly believe his eyes; a _train_ was there on the dilapidated old tracks. He had grown up believing all the trains were abandoned, sitting in some junkyard on the outskirts of the city, but here was an operating one, its doors sliding open to let the initiates march on. Dean ended up in one of the cars in the back, the small area completely crowded in by the spaced-out masses. He was jostled a few times as more people streamed into the car, but the robot-zombies were fairly still as the train sputtered to a start, facing forward and holding their guns against their chests. Dean copied them.

He snuck a few glances around, tilting his head slowly, but there didn’t seem to be anyone from Crowley’s gang in his car. Dean’s eyes caught on a mess of dark hair in front of him, and his breath hitched. Castiel was standing towards the front of the car, spine straight, Dean’s old t-shirt stretched across his back. He checked one more time for Crowley’s minions, and began moving forward when he saw none. The robot-zombies let him pass as Dean, wandering slowly toward that ridiculous mop of hair, nudged against them. His heart thudded against his chest; he didn’t want to get caught, couldn’t get caught, but he had to see Cas and make sure he wasn’t in some stupid trance too. If he was, Dean had to find some way to break him out of it. He moved closer and closer, anticipation and worry thrumming in his veins. Finally, Dean reached him, and he slid into place next to Cas.

Dean stared at Cas out of the corner of his eye, willing him to react. Then, Cas turned his head slightly toward Dean. His eyes were wide, expressive, and warm – absolutely, completely, Castiel. Relief and fucking _wonder_ washed over Dean. For a beat, they did nothing but stare at each other, completely silent in the eerie stillness of the train car, and then Cas reached out and tangled his fingers through Dean’s own, holding their hands tight. Dean felt lightheaded, dizzy, and stupidly relieved. Even in this situation, he could ignore the fear because Cas was okay. They still had so much further to go to get out of this horror story of a situation, but with Castiel at his side with Dean’s hand clasped in his, Dean knew they would fix it, somehow. Together.  
It dawned on Dean, suddenly, like the way the sun burst quick and instantaneous over the skyline in the morning, bathing the city in golden light and glinting fiercely off the skyscrapers. Castiel couldn’t have resisted the serum unless he was like Dean, unless he was _Divergent_.

Shit. It made perfect sense. But Dean had been too thick to notice, and Cas never mentioned anything. Oh, Dean was so gonna get him back later for keeping this from him.

Castiel seemed to recognize Dean’s train of thought – again, it was like he could read his fuckin’ mind – and he shrugged apologetically, but then moved close to Dean’s ear and got a mouthful of hair for his troubles. Dean shivered. Cas’s face and his face. Occupying the same general area. Even surrounded by robot-zombies, in a terrifying situation, it made him feel all sorts of interesting things.

“Sorry,” he whispered, breath tickling the shell of Dean’s ear. “I was gonna tell you.”

Dean pretended like he totally wasn’t stupidly jealous of his own goddamn ear in an attempt to participate in this conversation like a serious and mature, adult.

“It’s okay,” Dean whispered back. “But you owe me like a million apple pies when this is all over for keeping that secret from me.”

Cas chuckled under his breath. The train came to a halting stop, jostling its passengers, and Dean fell sideways into Castiel. Cas laughed quietly again, and Dean glared at him; they had to act like everyone else, now. The doors slid open with a hiss, and Dean craned his neck to look out the small rounded windows, trying to figure out where they had stopped as the initiates began to stream off the train. Dean and Cas looked at each other once more, before untangling their hands and facing the doors. They were close to the front, so they got off the train in the first group. One of Crowley’s minions led them away from the tracks.

Dean had never been to this area of the city before, but judging by the dull-colored, modest houses, he figured they must be skirting the outside of Abnegation’s village. He didn’t know much about Abnegation beyond the basics: they were selfless, caring, impartial, and level-headed. Their mission was to help other people, and to oversee the government of all five factions due to their lack of selfish desires. He also knew that part of him belonged to their faction.

He wondered what Castiel’s test results had been. Dean wouldn’t have been surprised if Cas had a little of all the factions in him. _The ultimate threat to society_ , Dean thought to himself, the voice in his head taking on Naomi’s clipped tone. He chuckled to himself at the absurdity. Everything seemed ridiculous: the hatred towards Divergents, the rigidness of their society, the crowd of robot-zombies surrounding him and Cas.

They moved in a pack, guns held steadily in their hands, traversing down from the train tracks towards the village. If Dean’s life was a movie, there’d be some pretty fuckin’ ominous music playing in the background. Dean wanted Victor and Charlie here too, by his side, but he hadn’t seen them at all. Cas hadn’t either. Their feet clacked on the pavement, and the crowd entered the village, guns at the ready. Crowley’s people barked some orders, but Dean was too far away to hear them.

At the ruckus, the people of Abnegation began to step out of their homes, squinting in the bright morning sun. Thankfully, for the most part, the Dauntless soldiers seemed to ignore the civilians. They murmured amongst themselves, running back into their houses when they saw the guns. The Abnegation children hid behind their parents, terrified looks on their little faces. Dean hoped that Crowley’s plans didn’t involve these innocent civilians.. Castiel agreed, if his face was anything to judge by; it had gone angry, yet protective, with narrow eyes and a furrowed brow. Castiel could be a fuckin’ storm if he wanted to.

The mass of robotic Dauntless soldiers suddenly stopped, all turning towards their right, and Dean followed their eyes. Crowley was standing on an empty patch of sidewalk, a megaphone in his hand – and _of course_ Crowley had a megaphone, because only douchebags owned megaphones.

“Leaders of Abnegation, please reveal yourself,” he boomed through the megaphone. “Reveal yourself and no innocents will be harmed.”

No one stepped forward. Crowley repeated himself, but the crowd remained silent. Dean watched anger spread over Crowley’s face, and he turned to whisper to one of his sycophants before returning to the megaphone.

“Wrong decision. Enjoy my soldiers.” Crowley moved to address the mass of Dauntless. “I want you to infiltrate the village and find the leaders. Use any means necessary. Don’t be afraid to use those little weapons I armed you with.”

It was chaos. Dean balked, turning to Cas, his eyes wide. The initiates were headed towards the civilians, guns raised, repeating the same question over and over.

“Where are the leaders?”

Cas grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him into the dark shadows between two houses. He looked around for Crowley, before turning towards Dean.

“We have to act like them. We don’t have to shoot, or anything,” Dean nodded, “but we can’t give it away. They’ll - shit - they’ll kill us on the spot. There’s nothing we can do for the civilians, not without outing ourselves, but we gotta just get away from here. Find help or something.” Cas was talking quickly, wildly, the hand not holding his gun going in all directions, and Dean reached out to steady it. He breathed in sync with Cas, slowing him down. Castiel’s eyes softened.

“Okay,” Dean said, gently. “Okay. Let’s fucking do this.”

Cas kissed him, quick and chaste, and Dean made an embarrassing noise of surprise. _God_ , Dean loved kissing Cas, loved the feel of his lips – it was like the nature he’d never known in the dilapidated city, clear mountain air and sunshine not cut off by a million jagged buildings, and Dean was a mushy idiot, apparently –and if he never got to kiss him again, because of Crowley and Naomi and their stupid prejudices, he would-

“Dean,” Castiel said sternly, dragging him out by the arm. Dean steadied himself and followed Cas. They crept along the backside of the house towards another row of Abnegation homes. Dean picked one at random to search, pointed to it, and Cas nodded as they wandered in its direction. They announced themselves as they entered, raising their voices over the pandemonium and confusion outside.

No one answered. Dean looked at Cas and shrugged, and they inched deeper into the house. It was completely empty. Dean hoped it meant that whoever lived here had escaped somewhere far away, nowhere near the brainwashed soldiers with their semi-automatics outside. They turned around and exited the house, moving quickly, like they had a purpose. Dean turned around to check behind them; when he saw nothing, he spun right back around – smack-dab into Castiel’s back. Cas was standing still, stopped right in his tracks, because he was staring straight at Crowley.

“Castiel Novak,” Crowley purred. “Naomi’s legendary protégé. And now - now you’re a mindless drone, completely under my command. Funny how that works.”

Cas stared blankly at Crowley, and Dean copied him, not daring to move a single muscle. Crowley laughed, wickedly, sending a shiver down Dean’s spine. Still laughing, Crowley moved past the two of them. He stopped short, though, and backtracked, facing Castiel once again with calculating eyes.

“Unless,” Crowley stopped short and turned towards the woman on his left. She had long, dark hair and a smug smile. Dean was pretty sure her name was Ruby; he’d seen her with his dad in passing a few times. Whoever she was, she looked fuckin’ dangerous.

“What?” she asked, clearly bored of this whole affair. “You think he’s one of them?”

“Only one way to find out.” Crowley lifted his gun to Cas’s forehead, and Dean’s vision went red. Cas didn’t even flinch. Dean was seething, veins practically on fire. He wanted to draw his gun so bad and shoot that sneer of Crowley’s face, desperate for anything to get that gun _away_ from Cas’s head. “Say goodbye, Novak.”

“Goodbye, asshole,” came a voice from behind Crowley, and he spun around, lowering his gun from Castiel’s forehead.

The voice belonged to a girl no older than Dean or Castiel, her eyes deadly, her jaw clenched. She was pretty, with bright red hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her gun was pointed at Crowley’s chest. Ruby raised her gun and pointed it at the girl.

“Anna,” Cas breathed, and Dean didn’t have time to _think_ about it before he was springing into action, pushing his rifle against Crowley’s back.

Crowley turned to him, eyes wide. “Dean Winchester? Divergent? How interesting.” His gun turned to point at Dean’s forehead.

“Put the gun down, or so help me.” Castiel’s voice was low and measured.

“Oh, and Castiel too? Just as I suspected.” Dean growled at him, to which Crowley only laughed.

“I don’t think so,” Ruby added. “We can’t let any Divergents slip away.”

“I think you’re forgetting that you’re outnumbered,” said the girl – Anna, it must be, the sister Castiel had talked about –behind them. Dean liked the chick already.

“Oh yeah?” Crowley taunted. “Are you forgetting that I control this entire army of brain-washed initiates?” He raised his voice, face going beet-red.

Anna shot him in the back.

“Holy shit,” Dean muttered. “Holy shit.”

Crowley fell to his knees and his gun clattered to the ground. Red pooled out around the wound and his face paled, the life slowly draining out of him as he lay on the concrete. Anna kept her rifle trained on him. Cas and Dean pointed theirs towards Ruby, and she alternated between the three of them.

“Get out of here, Ruby,” Anna warned. “Get the hell out of here. Run!”

Ruby nodded and took off in the other direction. Dean wasn’t sure how Anna knew her name or why she let Ruby go, but it didn’t matter right now.

Crowley was coughing up blood on the ground. “It doesn’t matter,” he was saying. “Naomi’ll get you all. They’re still a bunch of mindless drones! And Abnegation will pay for their refusal to join us. It doesn’t matter if I’m dead. You can’t win!”

“Cut the villain crap, Crowley,” Anna said. “No one wants to hear the dying antagonist’s final speech.”

She turned towards Dean and Cas.

“Come with me.”

Before they could get any further, though, Cas asked, “Anna?” his voice full of wonder and disbelief.

“Hello, little brother,” she said, a small smile on her face.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? Saving your ass. “

“Um, you just shot Crowley,” Dean added, stupidly. “Like killed him. With a gun.” He was the king of first impressions.

“Well, you’re an observant one,” Anna responded, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Anna,” Cas warned.

“Sorry.” She apologized to Dean. “Wouldn’t want to start things off on the wrong foot. What’s your name?”

“Dean Winchester.”

“You Castiel’s friend or something?” she asked.

“Best friend,” Cas corrected, smiling that goddamn wonderful slow-burn smile at Dean, like they weren’t in the middle of a freakin’ war zone, running for their lives.

“Interesting,” Anna commented. “Two Divergents.”

Cas waved her off. “That doesn’t matter right now. I really just want to know why you showed up here after _nothing_ for years. Anna, I didn’t know where you went. You could’ve been dead. You could've been-”

“I’ll explain everything later, Cas. Now shut up, so we can get out of here without being caught.”

They crept silently out of the village, Dean and Cas walking shoulder-to-shoulder and Anna leading them in front. Castiel’s face was a maelstrom of emotions; Dean knew he had questions for his sister that would have to wait, and he couldn’t even imagine what Cas was feeling.

Anna seemed to be leading them into the heart of Abnegation’s village, away from the shouts and disorder of the others. Dean and Cas shared a few glances, as if to silently ask if the other was okay, but they only exchanged nods in response. Dean wondered where they were going and how Anna had found them, he wondered if –

“Freeze.”

They spun around, Dean’s chest tightening.

“Drop your weapons.” Four smartly-dressed Erudites, their mouths pressed into thin lines, pointed rifles at them.

“Shit,” Anna muttered under her breath. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Dean moved closer to Castiel, his weapon still raised. He didn’t know what Erudite was doing on some random Abnegation street, but he didn’t really want to find out.

Anna fled. Dean watched as she turned around and bolted. He felt a flash of fury. But he knew Cas trusted Anna, which meant Dean trusted her too. She didn’t seem like the type to run away to save only herself, especially after coming out all this way to find and rescue them. Dean desperately hoped she had something else up her sleeve, not that he had much other choice.

“I said, drop your weapons.”

Cas complied, and Dean followed him, setting their semi-automatics gently on the ground.

“Good,” one of the Erudites sneered, motioning to the others. They came forward, grabbing Dean on both sides, their arms locked tight against his elbow and shoulder. The two guards holding Castiel marched him forward; the other two, Dean in their grip, were following close behind. Cas turned around, struggling a bit with his captors, and gave Dean a look, as if to say he knew they’d get out of this alright, and Dean nodded back. Not that he had any other options, but he trusted Castiel. Dean shoved at the hands holding his body a few times, trying to rile the Erudites up, but they just pressed against him tighter, glaring down at him. Dean glared back in an attempt to look more menacing and get these goons to back the fuck _off_.

They didn’t, though, because they had guns and Dean did not. They simply kept marching him and Cas towards some unknown destination. Then, they took a sharp turn and they were suddenly in front of one of the Abnegation houses, but this one was swarming with Erudite members. Some held guns, others marched hurriedly, but the majority of them openly stared at Dean and Castiel as they walked past. The two of them were led inside, towards the back of the house. As they entered, Naomi looked up.

She looked surprised, for a second, and then composed herself, a pleased smile creeping over her face.

“What do we have here?” She moved right up in front of them, Dean’s captors still holding him tightly. As desperately as he tried to wriggle away from them, they wouldn’t budge. Next to him, Cas had gone absolutely still.

“Dean Winchester,” she said. “And you, Castiel.”

Dean dared a glance at Cas, and his eyes were hard and narrowed, free of even a trace of fear. He just looked plain angry.

“I always sensed that you two were a bit off. Never thought anything of it though.”

“Maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are,” Castiel spat out. “Aunt,” he added condescendingly.

Naomi just laughed at him, a chilling sound that made Dean grate his teeth, but Cas didn’t move an inch. He stood there, defiant as ever. She moved towards him, her eyebrows raised, her eyes furious, and he didn’t even flinch. Dean needed to change the topic of conversation, fast.

“Why are you hurting all those innocent people out there?” he blurted out, and Naomi turned away from Castiel, momentarily forgetting her anger.

“Innocent people?” she asked. “Is that what they are, really?”

“There are kids out there,” Dean said.

“Abnegation unchecked, no matter the age, are set to destroy the faction system and everything we know. They refuse to listen to other factions, they are falsely impartial, and they shake the very foundations of everything our society was built on,” Naomi raised her voice. Anger seeped through her words, but at least it was directed at Dean now. “The same goes for the two of you and your - your deviance.”

She closed her eyes and stepped back a little, composing herself. “If Erudite and I don’t take matters into our own hands, the peace we worked so hard to create will be lost forever.”

“It’s already been lost,” Cas hissed. “You destroyed it! With your serums and murder and mind-control.”

“Human nature destroyed it,” retorted Naomi, turning back to Castiel. “People like you and Mr. Winchester destroyed it. People like me and Crowley are here to protect what is still sacred in this godforsaken society. We will restore the peace. And this time, it will be everlasting.”

“Crowley’s dead,” said Castiel.

“Yeah,” Dean added, eloquently.

Naomi’s façade cracked for a moment, and she stumbled over her words. “No matter.” Her face hardened again and she waved a hand. “I am more than capable of reinforcing the peace in Detroit myself. Dauntless is still incapacitated. Abnegation is still under attack. Amity and Candor soon, too, until they submit to my terms of peace.”

“What if you’re wrong? What if it doesn’t work?” Cas taunted.

“I’m never wrong.”

She turned towards their captors, addressing them. “Castiel will be coming with me.” Naomi glanced over at Dean, her eyes full of hatred. “As for Mr. Winchester,” she stopped and thought for a second. “Get rid of him.”

Cas made a noise, small but noticeable, and Naomi grinned. He was pulled out the back door and Dean was pulled in the other direction, towards the front of the house. Dean wriggled under their hold, trying to get enough leverage to slip out, to get their hands off him. They didn’t budge.

Dean was dragged out to the side of the house and forced to his knees. When he realized what was happening, his blood went cold. His captors trained their guns on him and stepped back.

“Hands on your head.” Dean listened to them.

He was different, he was Divergent, and they were gonna fucking execute him in the middle of this village. Of all the ways to go, he hadn’t thought it would be like this. He never thought he’d go over something so fucking _stupid_. Dean thought about Sam, his friends, his father. He thought about Cas. He didn’t know what Naomi had planned for Cas, and _god_ he’d never get to kiss him again. He was never gonna see Jo kick ass, or Victor and Charlie geek out over something ridiculous. He’d never see Sammy’s smile again.

Dean closed his eyes and waited.

Two shots were fired, but he didn’t feel anything. Dean snapped his eyes open. Both of the Erudites had fallen to the ground, clutching their arms, guns dropped into the grass. He sprung into action, grabbing the closest one’s gun, and leapt to his feet. Dean whirled around, trying to find where the mystery gunshots came from. Bela Talbot, her trademark smirk on her face, was bathed in the darkness of an alley behind him, her small handgun raised. She waved at Dean, hurriedly, and he sprinted over, checking behind him to make sure no one had noticed the two guards collapsing. Bela was dressed in bright white, just like the day he’d last seen her, outside the placement ceremony, and Dean almost laughed.

“How the hell are you, of all people, still in Candor?” he asked, disbelief coloring his words.

“Oh, that’s the first thing you want to know,” Bela retorted. “Not - why did you just save my ass - or - how’d you know where I was - or - where’d you get that super cool engraved handgun you just used to shoot the two people that were about to kill me. But, no. It’s why the hell are you in Candor.”

Dean just shrugged at her, cheekily.

“Oh, bloody hell. Contrary to your belief, Dean, I don’t lie very much. I just - fudge the truth. Sometimes. And Candor isn’t just about telling the truth yourself. It’s also about finding the truth. Which, through the employment of various tactics, I seem to be rather good at.”

“Bela Talbot,” Dean laughed. “You’re a trip. Thanks for saving my life, I guess I owe you one. Now you wanna tell me why?”

“As I’m sure Anna’s already told you, we’ll explain everything later. Right now, I have to get you out of here,” Bela answered. They were walking briskly through the alley, checking behind them every few seconds.

“What about Cas – wait, you know Anna?”

“I said, everything will be explained later. We don’t have time now. As for Castiel, we’ll figure something out once we get back to headquarters. We don’t even know where he is. Naomi could have taken him anywhere. But he’s not in any danger right now, she’s not gonna kill her precious nephew. We just have to find a way to get him out of wherever she’s keeping him.”

Dean took a deep breath, swamped by his worry for Cas and all of Bela’s information. He was confused and scared, and so fuckin’ relieved to be alive.

“Headquarters?”

“Jesus effing Christ,” Bela groaned. “You ask too many questions.”

There were gunshots behind them and Dean jumped, startled. Bela started sprinting – she’d ditched the heels for sensible yet fashionable flats, this _had_ to be serious – and he followed her. He decided not to ask any more questions in favor of running for his life.

\---

Bela didn’t talk much on their trek to wherever the hell she was taking him, but she did tell him that they were headed to Candor’s part of the city. Dean, pointedly, did not ask any more questions for fear of getting his head bitten off. They stopped running once Abnegation was out of sight behind them, and Dean fuckin’ glad. He was fit, sure, but Dauntless training didn’t incorporate a lot of long-distance running. Bela laughed at his slight wheezing, and he flipped her off. She had some kind of freak endurance or something. Whatever.

Tired as he was, Dean still kept the pace brisk. He was trying not to think about the mess they were in, and his mind was occupied with thoughts of saving Cas from whatever Naomi had planned for him. He had to get Charlie and Victor back and make sure they were okay. His thoughts were scattered, frantic, like a glass window had shattered in his mind and he was trying to pick up the broken pieces. They needed to get help, and quickly.

Bela led him towards a plain-looking building in one of the more secluded areas of Candor. It was small, and looked empty, but Bela pulled him around the back and banged on the door.

“Alright, alright, alright Bela,” came a voice from the other side of the door. “Quit it, we hear you.”

Bela rolled her eyes. “Tessa can be a bit dramatic,” she whispered to Dean. He could hear locks turning from inside the building.

“Tessa?” Dean asked.

She opened the door.

“Hello, Dean. Fancy seeing you here.”

Dean gaped at her. “What is this? What are you doing here?”

“Please, come in.”

She motioned for him to enter the room. He did, blinking furiously as his eyes adjusted to the harsh fluorescent lights that bathed the inside of the building. The room was pretty bare, the only furnishings some ratty-looking couches and a desk with a computer. There was a group of people strewn out across the room, and they were all staring at Dean.

“Welcome to headquarters,” Tessa grinned. Dean figured there were about seven of them in the room, including Anna, and he did not appreciate being stared up at like some sort of animal in a zoo. They all looked nice enough, though, so Dean managed a small smile.

“Everyone, meet Dean,” she announced, taking him by the shoulders and pushing him farther into the room. They all murmured hellos back, and Dean waved, unsure of what exactly the protocol was in this situation.

She turned back towards Dean and laughed at his confused expression.

“We’re kinda like a team. Our job is to protect Divergents. And we work out of this cozy little room. Anna organized us a couple years ago, after she found out what her aunt was truly up to. She had to get out of Detroit, though, otherwise Naomi could have found her, so she worked with us from outside the city.”

Anna nodded at him. Dean was still a little angry at her, for disappearing on them and letting Cas get taken. Truth be told, he wanted to lash out and demand to know what the hell she had been thinking, but Tessa was still explaining and he didn’t want to interrupt her. He settled on an attempt to send her a glare that would encompass all his anger and confusion, because if anyone could read minds, it would be her.

Tessa gestured towards two cheery-looking girls stretched out on one of the couches. One of them had waves of bright blonde hair, and the other had dark features and a knockout smile.

“That’s Lisa and Jess over there. They’re from Amity, and they work with administering placement tests and saving Divergents from detection, just like me. Kevin over there,” she pointed towards the dark-haired kid sitting at the computer, who took a break from clacking away on the keys to wave at Dean, “is from Abnegation. His mother is a high-up official in the government, so he helps us out with information from them.”

The kid turned back to the computer.

“Hannah,” Tessa nodded towards a woman in the corner, who looked up from her book, face framed by dark, curly hair, “is Erudite. She works with Naomi, most of the time, and to the best of her ability, sabotages her plans. You know, deleting files of presumed Divergents, informing us about her serums, et cetera.”

Dean looked at her a little closer, wheels turning in his head. She looked oddly familiar, and it took a few moments before he realized where she was from. Hannah had been one of the Erudites in his testing room the other day. It couldn’t have been _yesterday_ , certainly; it felt like eons ago.

“And Bela, who you’ve already met, well - well, we’re not exactly sure what she does.”

Bela rolled her eyes at Tessa again.

“Well, first of all, I save dead-meat Divergents from getting their heads blown off.” She patted Dean on the shoulder. “You’re welcome. And, I procure important information from a variety of sources for all you losers. Accurate information, may I add.” She smiled smugly at the rest of them. “They just don’t appreciate my talents.”

“Bela just steals shit,” Kevin piped up from the computer, his back to the room.

“Rude,” Bela said, glaring menacingly at Kevin’s hair. “I forgot to mention, I also spend a great deal of energy restraining myself from punching that prick of a kid.”

“Okay, okay, take it down guys,” Tessa huffed, laying her hand on Bela’s arm to soothe her. “Everybody calm down. We have much more important issues to deal with.”

“Yeah, like why you guys are all just sitting here while out there, Dauntless are being forced to kill Abnegation. Every minute we waste means another Abnegation gets murdered and another Dauntless becomes a murderer. And Naomi is still alive and controlling them and she has Cas and Jo and Pamela and the other Dauntless leaders are who knows where,” Dean blurted out, in a burst of anger. He was glad these people existed and that they tried to help people like him, but he didn’t understand why they weren’t _doing_ anything right now.

“Calm down, Dean,” Tessa said, and she was the only one that didn’t have a mildly shocked expression on her face. Dean figured it was because she had to deal with him all the time. “We have people out there already, people like Ruby, and Jo, and Pamela, who are all safe as they can be. People that are trained, people from Dauntless that can actually help. Most of them,” she jerked her thumb backwards, “have never touched a gun or studied hand-to-hand combat. This is more of our, er, intelligence unit of the whole operation.”

Dean felt his anger slip away. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “My bad.”

“No worries,” Lisa waved it off. “I know this must be really stressful for you right now, it is for all of us, but we promise we’re doing our best to keep people safe.”

“As for Castiel,” Hannah piped up, “we have reason to believe that Naomi took him to Dauntless.”

“Yeah,” Anna added. “That’s where she’s controlling the Dauntless initiates from, so it makes the most sense. And Ruby called us a few minutes ago saying she was pretty sure that she saw Naomi with Cas headed into Dauntless.”

Dean’s heart thumped in his chest. He needed to find Cas and get him away from his aunt. If he could destroy the hell out of whatever was letting Naomi _control_ this friends too, that would be fucking fantastic, and these guys were definitely his best shot.

“Hold on a second.” Dean paused, looking around suspiciously. “Where does Ruby fit into this whole thing again?”

“She’s with us,” Tessa explained. “She’s our eye on Crowley, she’s been with us for a long time. Don’t worry, we can trust her.”

“Okay,” he said, “Alright. So we gotta find a way into Dauntless without getting our asses busted by Naomi and her followers. Lovely. It’s not like they have every entrance under surveillance or anything.”

“Except one,” Tessa replied, smugly.

“Except one?” Dean asked. “The hell you talking about, Tessa?”

“You’ll see,” She winked at him. “Bela, Anna, you two are coming with us. Hannah, you should probably get back to Naomi, but the guards will let you in the front. You should probably go ahead now.”

Hannah nodded and put down her book. She stood up, straightening her suit and checking for apparently non-existent dust.

“Got it. I’ll contact you if she isn’t at Dauntless. Be careful. Naomi’s gonna have that place crawling with her minions and Dauntless soldiers,” Hannah said, her tone serious. Dean gave her a thumbs-up in understanding, and she half-smiled at him, before strolling out the door.

“The rest of you,” Tessa continued, “keep us posted on any word from Ruby or the others. And stay here, stay safe.”

Jess, Lisa, and Kevin echoed the sentiment, and Dean was mighty glad they had his back. He felt a lot better about this mess than he had a few hours ago, and it was nice to know that there were people out there that cared about what happened to him. These people barely knew him, they weren’t family, but they still wanted to protect his Divergent ass.

Tessa led them out the door and towards Dauntless.

\---

Dean felt supremely stupid when they arrived at Tessa’s ‘safe’ entrance. It was the frickin’ hole they’d jumped in on the first day of Dauntless training.

“Duh,” he said to himself, and Tessa laughed at him. Anna and Bela looked at them like they were freaks.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t gonna be laughing when you have to jump into that pit,” he pointed over the edge of the building, and Bela gaped at him.

“Uh, what?” she asked. “For real?”

“For real,” Tessa answered. “There’s a net at the bottom though, don’t worry.”

Bela groaned. Anna looked unimpressed.

“It’ll be fine, Bela,” she reassured her. “Maybe a little fun even. Don’t think about it, just jump.” Anna wriggled her eyebrows at Bela, and Bela glared at her.

Dean laughed, but his throat tightened as he was flooded with memories from the day he’d first met Cas, when he was just the boy with dark hair that had proved his fearlessness right from the start. God, Dean hadn’t even seen his face yet. “What’s the deal with you Novaks? Jump in many holes when you were little?”

“The hell you talking about, Dean?” Anna asked, confusion coloring her voice.

“First day of Dauntless training,” Dean explained, amused at the indignant look on Anna’s face, “Crowley takes us up here for our first test, tells everyone that they have to jump. Cas, out of nowhere, volunteers to go first, and he just – fuckin’ jumped. Made a pretty big name for himself, right off the bat.”

Anna’s face broke out into a wide smile, and Dean couldn’t help but smile back.

“That sounds like my little brother,” she chuckled.

“Alright, enough reminiscing, let’s get a move on.” Tessa pushed them towards the edge of the building. “I’ll go first and check out the area.”

Bela let out a small whimper as Tessa jumped into the hole, the collars on her jacket flapping up as she fell. “I’ll go last,” she said, shakily. Dean patted her on the arm reassuringly, and she looked thankful.

Anna leapt over the edge, and Dean followed after. Falling like this still wasn’t fun, never was, but at least he knew there was actually a net at the bottom. He was helped out of the net by Tessa and Anna, who were both looking upwards, nervously.

“She’ll do it,” Dean said. “She’s tough.”

Sure enough, Bela came tumbling down a few moments later. Miraculously, she wasn’t screaming murder as she did it. Dean clapped her on the back once she was off the net and back on solid ground. She just glared at him.

“No way in hell I’m doing that again.”

Tessa laughed. “Well, lucky for you, I don’t have any more holes to jump in. However, we still have to find a way to get to the heart of Dauntless without being caught by guards. And, we still have to figure out how to take down Naomi’s whole operation.” She had lowered her voice, and all four of them checked the surrounding area constantly, as they crept down the corridor towards the control centers of Dauntless.

They turned corners quietly, the dark hallways stretching out endlessly in front of them. It was so silent, that Dean swore he could hear his heart beating and the blood pumping loudly under his fragile skin. Tessa was in front, leading the way bravely, while Anna and Bela followed her, side-by-side, and Dean brought up the rear.

The lack of guards was a surprise, but not completely unexpected. Dean had figured that Naomi would want to protect herself and Dauntless too, but apparently going after the other factions was more important. Or she didn’t think anyone would come after her. Dean almost laughed. Naomi had another thing coming.

Tessa did take out one guy, knocking him unconscious with a blow to the head, but he didn’t seem to be doing much of anything except standing there in a stupor. Dean wondered if there were any side-effects to the serum. Surely vile-tasting mind-control serum couldn’t be good for your health. He couldn’t afford to worry about Charlie and Victor right now, but the thought of them still stuck in his mind. They were still out there, somewhere, lost, and Dean wanted nothing more than to have them by his side.

Dean jumped when the sound of muted voices up ahead washed over their ears, and Tessa turned and gave them all a thumbs-up. There was a door up ahead, with light streaming out the cracks, and Dean vaguely remembered being taken here once by his father, when he was much younger. It was the control center of Dauntless. He’d bragged about it for a week, and his friends had been jealous. But that was a long time ago, when Dean was young and naïve and still thought his father was the best man in all of Detroit.

“This is it,” she whispered. Dean couldn’t help shaking, worried about what he would find on the other side of that door. The girls showed no signs of hesitation; they kept moving forward, towards the muffled sound of voices. They all froze at the sound of thumping footsteps behind them, and whirled around to see what was coming. Dean’s heart picked up when he saw a group of Dauntless initiates headed towards them, guns hoisted over their shoulders. He squinted, but didn’t recognize any of them.

Anna grabbed Bela’s arm and took a defiant step forward. “We’ll hold them off. You two go find my brother and stop all this nonsense,” she hissed. Anna and Tessa shared a loaded look, but Tessa seemed to think it was the right idea, so she turned around and pulled Dean towards the door, leaving the other two to watch their backs.

Dean pushed open the heavy door, and was practically blinded by the lights inside. The room was bright white, sterile and polished, and he had to blink a couple times before his eyes adjusted. There were many people milling around, seemingly all Erudite, save for a few of Crowley’s henchmen that Dean recognized. He scanned the room for Cas, but didn’t see him.

Naomi stood in the center of the room, eyeing a huge screen that was playing footage of Abnegation and the Dauntless soldiers. No one noticed when he and Tessa slipped into the room. Tessa made a small noise of surprise behind him, and Dean whipped around, his breath catching in his throat.

Cas was sitting in a chair, bathed in darkness in the back of the room. He was completely still; his eyes faced forward, but they weren’t focusing on anything in particular. Dean looked around carefully, making sure they were still unnoticed, and he rushed over to Cas as fast as he could. Cas didn’t even register his presence. Fear clawed its way into Dean’s heart, ripping and tearing until his breath came too fast, and his hands started shaking. Dean pushed it to the back of his mind. There was no time to freak out.

He noticed bindings over Castiel’s wrists, holding him in the chair, and Dean’s fingers danced over the strings, deftly working to untie them. “Hey,” he said, softly, repeating it a few times.

Cas’s hands lacked their usual warmth, his pulse beating faintly underneath his skin. Dean ran his hand down his friend’s arm, trying to get his attention. He barely even blinked.

“Cas?” Dean whispered, tugging the last part of the binding free. “You in there?”

As soon as his wrists were free, Cas launched himself out of the chair, locking his hands around Dean’s shoulders and crashing him against the nearest wall until Dean let out a cry of pain when his back hit it. Cas still wasn’t looking him in the eye. The bright blue of his irises seemed paler, like someone had drained all the spark and warmth from him and replaced it with icy-cold stone.

“Cas?” His voice was louder now, spiked with confusion, with fear. He grabbed one of Cas’s hands where it was pressed into his shoulder. “Castiel?”

“He can’t hear you.” Naomi’s clipped tone floated over Cas’s head, tinged with infuriating amusement. The hands on his shoulders tightened, and then Cas stepped backwards, leaving Dean pinned against the wall. He didn’t know where Tessa was; his eyes glanced over the room frantically, but he saw no sign of her. All he could see was Cas, finally looking at him, with those pale, blank eyes, and Naomi towering behind him, her mouth curved into a small smile. “It’s amazing, really. Everything that made him Castiel - his thoughts, his emotions, his, dare-I-say, attachments… all wiped away by some simple chemistry. Castiel always thought he was special. Always thought he was better than us. And now, look at him.”

“Cas,” Dean said, unevenly, desperately, because there was no way Naomi was telling the truth. Castiel had to be in there, the Castiel who laughed at Dean’s stupid jokes and kissed his mouth like it meant something. The Castiel who stood up for what he believed in. “Please, Cas.”

“He’s gone, Mr. Winchester.” She had the nerve to laugh, a sharp chuckle that set the fury within Dean’s body on fire. “And you know what? That makes us a whole hell of a lot safer.”

Dean scoffed. “Safer? The fuck you talking about?”

“The brilliance of our faction system,” Naomi retorted, “is that conformity to the system removes the ability of anyone to exercise their independent will. Free will can have nasty consequences. I’m just trying to make sure we never find out what exactly those are.”

He clenched his fists. This was absolute goddamn _nonsense_. “You just want to control us,” Dean spat, “you just want everyone to be a good little soldier, to do exactly as you say. How is that safe? You built a goddamn army, and you’re lecturing me about safety?”

Naomi ignored him, and turned away. “Castiel,” she commanded. He spun his head around, mechanically. She nodded at him and walked away. Once Naomi’s back was turned, he took a few steps forward, reaching out towards Cas. Dean placed his hand, carefully, on Castiel’s cheek.

“Cas. It’s me.”

Cas jolted, suddenly, swatting Dean’s hand away and grabbing his shoulders again, pushing him backwards against the wall. His movements were choppy, at best, but he was strong, every ounce of his training directed at Dean. Dean’s head thwacked against the wall, but he barely registered the pain; he only focused on pushing back, locking his hands around Castiel’s forearms.

“Cas,” he said, again and again, in a futile attempt to get through to him. He needed _Cas_ back. Dean swung around, trying to loosen Castiel’s grip, but Cas just held on, eyes still blank.

Naomi had stepped away, clearly more interested in the screens projecting shots of Abnegation, and he needed _Tessa_ , now. Cas was too strong, especially this freaky mind-control version, and goddamnit, he wasn’t listening to Dean. “It’s me, Cas, it’s me,” he repeated, shakily.

Cas pushed him to the floor, and Dean let out a small cry, but he kept his eyes locked on Castiel’s with his hands out, ready for the next blow. He tried to get up, struggling against Cas’s hold, pushing at his chest, wrists, shoulders, anything he could reach. Cas didn’t seem to be able to hit him, but he held Dean down. One of his hands released Dean’s shoulder, and Dean looked up, warily, to watch Naomi press a gun into Castiel’s hand. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

“Cas, please.” He forced himself to remain calm, even as Cas lifted the gun, and Dean’s heart leapt when he noticed that Castiel’s fingers were trembling. He _knew_ Cas was in there, he had to be, and Dean faced the barrel of the gun head-on.

“It’s me,” he murmured, and he swore he could see color slowly trickle back into Cas’s eyes, and his hands were shaking harder now. “You’re my best friend, Cas. You’re family.” Dean took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I love you,” he said, softly, quietly, because for a moment, Dean forgot how to be a coward. He forgot how to be afraid. “Look at me. I love you. Understand?”

Cas lowered the gun.

“Dean,” he whispered, faintly, and he reached out to brush a hand through Dean’s hair, thumbing softly at his cheek. Dean couldn’t breathe. Cas’s eyes were blue again, stupidly, breathtakingly, blue.

And then Castiel’s eyes hardened, and he whipped around, pointing the gun at Naomi. She looked almost startled, her careful façade crumbling like old stone, and her dark-suited minions charged, tearing themselves away from their computer screens. And then Bela and Anna burst into the room, eyes blazing, Tessa appearing from the shadows too, and Cas pulled Dean to his feet.

The girls surprised Naomi’s helpers from behind, taking them down easily, and Castiel kept his gun carefully trained on his aunt. She stepped back slowly, her eyes flashing, but Cas didn’t pull the trigger.

“Finish it,” Naomi barked, her order directed towards the few Erudites still frantically tapping away on the computers. Someone hit Cas from behind, and Dean saw red. He went after the attacker, arms swinging; Dean lacked any sort of weapon, and attacking this way was a stupid idea, but he didn’t care. He watched Naomi stalk away out of the corner of his eye while they were distracted, and he thought about all the Abnegation out on the streets of their village, guns pointed in their faces, and he lashed out. No more innocents would die, and they needed to stop Naomi.

Cas, who had the gun, pulled Dean behind him. Smart move. Dean kept his eyes on Naomi as Cas kept the others away, watching her tap away on the high-tech keyboard. The video-feed screens stretched to the ceiling, showing shots of Abnegation huddled together close to the ground, while the Dauntless initiates, mouths firm and eyes hard, pointed guns at them.

Anna, Tess, and Bela were holding their own, twirling around and dodging the Erudite suits, but they were badly outnumbered and Dean knew this couldn’t hold for long. Dean watched Anna pause for a moment, her eyes sliding over to Naomi and whatever she was typing. Anna’s face paled, and Dean knew she must be realizing the implications, whatever they were, of whatever Naomi was trying to finish. Anna turned away and her eyes locked with Castiel’s across the fray. She moved, like lightning, pulling a knife from her belt and whirling it towards Cas. Cas, by some miracle, caught it by the handle. Dean could hardly breathe.

He adjusted the knife, carefully, turning it in his palm, and then Cas clenched his jaw and hurled the blade through the air, towards the computers. Dean made a weird nose, some sort of mixture of awe and disgust, when the knife speared Naomi’s hand, pinning it against the computer screen.

He didn’t care where he was, Dean would always, without fail, find Castiel’s impeccable knife-skills really fucking hot.

But also, really disgusting, because blood was gushing from Naomi’s pinned hand and she was screaming in anguish. Her minions were momentarily distracted, a few of them rushing over to help.

“Stop them!” she yelled, trying to dislodge the knife from her hand, but it wouldn’t budge. Neither did the other Erudites, who looked baffled about what to do. It was a strange look to see on the faces of so many Erudites. “Stop them, you idiots!”

Distracted by the knife, they didn’t see Tessa snatch something from the floor and sneak up behind them. Dean watched in abstract horror as she plunged something into the back of Naomi’s neck, causing her to shudder violently. Tessa reached over and pulled the knife out of her skin. Naomi looked at it, dazed, and Dean realized, suddenly, what Tessa had done.

“Everybody stop,” Tessa commanded, her strong voice reaching the entire room. They listened. Dean knew that Tessa had ejected Naomi with her own serum, turning that weapon turned against her, and he felt the tiniest hint of satisfaction. Tessa jostled Naomi’s shoulder, getting her attention. “Shut it down,” she said forcefully, gesturing towards the screen.

Naomi used her other hand, the one not bleeding copiously all over the computer, to press several buttons. Dean wasn’t sure why the other Erudites weren’t attacking Tessa, but he figured they were probably tied to Naomi somehow, or had just had literally no idea what to do with their leader incapacitated.

“I want everything stopped,” Tessa continued. “Restore the initiates back to normal. Get them and the Dauntless leaders out of Abnegation. I don’t want any innocents dead. And then destroy the program that made this whole fucking thing possible.” Naomi nodded and kept on pushing buttons, mindlessly.

Dean moved to stand next to Cas, brushing their shoulders together, gently. “You okay?” he whispered, even though he knew there was no way Cas was actually okay. Not just like that, with his sister back from the dead, the mind-control shit, the knowledge that Victor and Charlie were still out there and unaccounted for. Dean sure as hell wasn’t okay.

Cas nodded, slowly, catching Dean’s eye. With that, Dean forgot everything else that was happening around him, couldn’t even remember what fear felt like, because Cas was looking at him and he was safe. It was going to be _okay_.

“I’m so sorry,” Cas breathed, as if it was his fault. That alone made Dean quiver with rage.

“Cas,” Dean said, softly. “Cas, it’s not your fault.”

“I love you,” was Castiel’s only response.

Dean raised his eyebrows, smiling, like they were in a perfectly normal place to say shit like that. And, okay, technically Dean had said it first, but that was different. Cas smiled back, tiredly, and they really needed to get out of here.

Tessa was still talking to Naomi, and Bela and Anna slipped up behind them, all of them checking to make sure the others were okay. Bela looked a little shaken, and Dean wasn’t surprised; she definitely hadn’t experienced much combat in Candor, but she had done a pretty damn good job here despite her lack of practice. Anna and Cas seemed to be quietly communicating, so Dean turned back to Tessa.

“What did Crowley do with Jo and the other Dauntless leaders?” she was asking Naomi.

“Sent them on a mission,” Naomi bit out. “To the outskirts of the city. It’s a trap.”

Tessa narrowed her eyes, and holy fuck, she could be downright terrifying. “Stop it. Turn them around.”

Naomi nodded, reluctantly, but kept working at the computer. The monitors were quiet now, all the Abnegation having fled back into their homes and the initiates most liking returning to Dauntless. Dean needed to make sure Charlie and Victor were safe and back to normal.

The door swung open and Hannah, unfazed at the scene before her, walked in and strode over to Tessa and Naomi. Tessa explained something to her, quietly, too quiet for Dean to hear, and Hannah nodded. Naomi’s people were still standing around, but stock-still, and goddamn if it wasn’t super creepy. At least they weren’t trying to kill him anymore. Tessa left Hannah to deal with Naomi and gestured at Dean and the others to leave. They followed Tessa and slipped out the door.

“We’re gonna head back to our headquarters,” Tessa informed them, once they were outside the room.

“Can I make sure Victor and Charlie are alright?” Dean asked, Cas nodding in agreement beside him.

Tessa sighed. “Fine. Go check on your friends. Meet us back at headquarters as soon as you can. We have to figure out our next move.”

Dean murmured his thanks. He could hear voices coming from the direction of the dining hall, and he figured that’s where the initiates were returning to. Together with Cas, he headed off in that direction.

\---

Dean was right. The initiates - still toting their rifles, until Pamela took them at the door - looked generally confused, had streamed back into the dining hall. Pamela stared stonily down at everyone that passed. A bunch of them asked her questions, but she just shrugged her shoulders. Dean wasn’t sure how much she knew, but Tessa had made it seem like she was in their little group, so he figured it was close to everything. Explaining everything that happened to the mass of Dauntless would be incredibly difficult, but Tessa was smart. She’d figure something out.

Cas spotted Charlie and Victor across the crowd and pulled Dean in their direction. Jo was headed toward them, as well, and reached them first. She looked just as desperate and relieved as Dean felt, and she grabbed Charlie’s face, kissing her hard. Victor stepped back, amused, as the girls wrapped themselves up in each other.

“Alright ladies, break it up,” Dean laughed, clapping Victor on the back when he and Cas finally got across the room. After they got a few more long, heady kisses in, they finally listened to him, with Charlie turning to throw her arms around Dean’s shoulders.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he mumbled against her. She pulled back and held Dean at arms’ length.

“What the hell happened?” Charlie asked. “Last thing I remember, I was heading over here for breakfast.”

“Long story,” Cas said, his voice serious. “Let’s get outta here, and we’ll explain everything.”

Victor sighed. “Better be a hell of a story, guys.”

“Oh, it is,” Dean promised. “Jo, you coming too?”

She shook her head. “I’ll meet up with you guys later.” She kissed Charlie goodbye and slipped away into the crowd. Dean put one arm around Charlie and one around Victor, leading them out of the dining hall. He laughed at Cas’s pout.

“I’ll touch you plenty, later,” Dean grinned, because he liked watching Cas squirm.

Charlie groaned. “Gross.”

Dean flicked her in the back of the neck, affectionately, as they left the room and headed towards the headquarters.

\---

Charlie and Victor took it better than Dean expected. He didn’t know how they were so well-adjusted to be able to just shrug off the fact that they had been mind-zombies for the past day, but he figured that having Jess and Lisa explain it probably helped. It was hard to freak out when those two were smiling at you.

Cas grabbed Anna by the arm and pulled her into one of the corners of the room, and Dean watched them now, both siblings talking animatedly. Dean couldn’t quite read Cas’s face, but he seemed pretty happy, to have his sister back. Dean missed Sam more than ever. He’d have to go to Erudite, soon, to check up on him. He wondered, briefly, if Sam knew anyone in this little squad designed to protect Divergents. If not, Dean would have to introduce them. He knew Sam would like them.

Tessa returned and assured them that, thankfully, no Abnegation had died; only a few had been shot, but the shooters all worked for Crowley and weren’t under the influence of the serum. Apparently, it wasn’t as strong as Naomi had hoped.

They gathered around Tessa. Dean squished together with Cas on the couch, pressing their thighs together; Cas put his hand on Dean’s knee, like he was telling Dean that he was here, he was safe, they were gonna be okay.

“I just want to say thank you,” Tessa was saying, “for everything you’ve done and sacrificed. We still have a long way to go, though, Naomi and Crowley were just the beginning. I doubt we’ll be able to change the faction system altogether, at least not for a very long time, but we can transform the way society functions. We can make it more open, less afraid of divergence and disorder.”

Dean nodded along with the others. He was kind of in awe of Tessa, her striking balance of optimism and awareness of reality. He figured if anyone could handle this situation, it would be her. Dean watched Cas smile out of the corner of his eye, and his heart beat faster in his chest. He wanted to get out of here, now, so he could see that smile up close, so he could kiss it and feel it against his skin.

“Hannah will take care of Naomi,” Tessa continued, and Dean shook himself out of his little fantasy. Cas was always fucking distracting him – at least it was in the best way. “We don’t want blood on our hands, and she’s no use to us dead, but we have ways of keeping her out of the picture. Hannah is also more than capable of handling Erudite, in general. With Crowley gone, someone will need to step up in Dauntless, but luckily, most of the potential leaders – Jo, Pamela, Ruby – are sympathetic to our cause.”

“My mom’s running for office,” Kevin piped up from the back.

“Good,” Tessa replied. “Abnegation will need someone strong and level-headed after that turmoil. Amity and Candor are fine for now. In the meantime, I suggest everyone get some rest. We have a lot to work out in the next few days. It should be safe to return to your factions.”

Everyone got up slowly, talking quietly amongst themselves, and Tessa waved over Dean and the other Dauntless. Victor and Charlie still seemed a little wide-eyed, a little confused, but Dean was glad they were finally in on the whole thing. He was glad they accepted him and Cas, despite being Divergent, despite being the very things society had taught them to fear.

“Ruby and the others are handling the situation at Dauntless,” Tessa told them. “Please don’t tell the other initiates much, we don’t want to scare them. Some of them might already be pretty traumatized, but we’re gonna get them all the help we can, okay?”

They nodded, tiredly. She bid them farewell and they turned to slip out the door. It was evening by now, the last strains of sunlight stretching out across the purple-red sky. Dean watched how the light played in Castiel’s hair, making it look like he had some kind of strange halo, and more than anything, he wanted to run his fingers through it. Cas caught him staring, and Dean looked away quickly.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” Cas murmured, letting Charlie and Victor get ahead of them so they could walk together, their hands brushing softly at their sides.

“Duh,” Dean said. He wriggled his eyebrows. “Promised I’d touch you later, right?”

Cas just stared right back at him, his eyes white-hot, and Dean gulped. Christ, Cas was gonna kill him someday.

They dropped Charlie and Victor off at the dorms, and then practically ran home through the dark streets, grinning the whole way there. They were both breathing heavily when they arrived, and Dean let out a sigh of relief when he saw the dark windows, signifying the promise of an empty house. He didn’t know when his dad was coming back from Amity, didn't know if he'd heard of what happened at Dauntless, but he didn’t particularly care. Dean and Sam had just learned to deal with an absent father.

Then, as Dean fumbled with the key, Cas’ hands found his sides, and – Dean really didn’t want to be thinking about his dad any more. He pressed his lips to the back of Dean’s neck and fucking sighed, his breath dancing across Dean’s skin. Dean pushed the door open with more force than necessary and they stumbled inside. Cas pressed him up against the back of the door, and Dean licked his way into Cas’s mouth.

“Bedroom,” Dean said, unevenly, and Cas nodded in agreement. They made their way over to Dean’s room, tangled together, breathing gently against each other's mouths. Cas’s eyes shone in the darkness, the soft sounds he made washing over Dean like – waves on a beach, even though he’d never been to one. Dean was going fucking crazy.

They tumbled down together onto Dean’s bed, mouths pressed together, and Dean rocked his hips up against Castiel’s and saw fuckin’ stars. He got his fingers up under Cas’s shirt, skimming over his ribs. His heart crashed, rapid, against his chest, and Cas ran his own hands down Dean’s body, palming at his dick through his pants.

“Cas,” Dean breathed, stumbling over the word, the only word he could even think about forming right now, “Cas, Cas, Cas,” because he was incredible, and everything Dean wanted, and he was lining his hips up with Dean’s, pressing him hard into the bed.

“Fuck,” Cas moaned, and Dean almost laughed – maybe cried –at the sound of Cas coming undone above him. Their cocks pressed together through way too fucking many layers of clothes, but there wasn’t time to get them off. They raced toward the finish line, rutting their hips and kissing and skimming hands over each other’s skin. “Dean, oh my god, Dean.”

Dean was so close, when Cas fucking bit at his shoulder, and that was honestly all he needed before he came right in his pants. It felt like he could suddenly sense _more_ of everything: taste Cas’s skin, hear his stumbling whispers, feel the trail his fingers blazed across his chest. then Cas came, too, and the world fell away for a moment.

Cas brought him back down to earth, kissing him sweetly and curling his fingers in Dean’s sweaty hair, and Dean suddenly remembered how tired and drained he was. He wanted to drift off like this, tangled up with Cas, but it seemed like Cas had other ideas; he started pulling off his clothes and working on Dean’s too. They fumbled with the buttons on their shirts and the zippers on their pants, throwing their sticky clothes on the floor where they belonged, and then climbed back into the bed, completely naked.

“We’re so fucking weird,” Dean laughed. “Can’t even get undressed til after we have sex.”

“That’s because someone doesn’t have any patience,” Cas yawned, pulling Dean against his chest.

“Uh, fuck you,” Dean said, into the darkness. “You were just as much a part of that as I was.”

Cas’s rumbling laughter crashed against Dean’s back, lulling Dean to sleep. Their hands found each other and tangled together under the thin sheets.

“Cas,” Dean let out, softly, the darkness giving him courage, and it was a lot easier to say this to his bedroom walls than Castiel’s face. “You’re the best fucking thing that’s happened to me, do you know that? Like, you were the first one to jump into that stupid hole and now you’re my best friend. I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere, but you taught me that it didn’t matter.”

Dean was on a roll with these – feelings and shit, so he kept going, because he was fucked anyways. “What you and I have, it’s pretty fucking special, and I thought I was gonna lose it all because of Naomi. So, yeah. I’m glad you didn’t turn into a mind-controlled freak forever. I would have missed you, you know.”

“Oh,” Cas said. “I love you, too.”

Dean laughed a little, because it was pretty funny. Here were two boys who’d been through a hell of a lot, who didn’t really fit in, who escaped their childhoods with bruised hearts and tough exteriors. Now, they were whispering silly words to each other in the dark, words they didn’t dare think of saying out loud before the other. Words they weren’t even sure they could say.

Maybe their society was still fucked up, and maybe they didn’t fit in. Maybe they never would. But Dean knew he belonged here, in Castiel’s arms.

Dean wrapped his fingers around Cas’s wrist, feeling his pulse beating against his skin, and held on tight.

_** ** _

_**Epilogue** _

Dean woke up to the sound of banging from the kitchen. He was warm, wrapped up around Cas. He groaned. There was someone in the kitchen and Dean was comfortable and he really fucking didn’t want to get up and investigate.

He pulled out of Cas’s hold, gently grabbing his wrist and placing it over Cas’s chest. Cas made a couple of little snuffling sounds, but he stayed asleep, and Dean couldn’t resist running his fingers through Cas’s soft hair. Dean smiled at the top of his head and climbed out of bed. He pulled on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and headed towards the kitchen.

A couple more pots clanged, and Dean found his brother messing around in one of the cabinets.

“Sam?” he asked, his voice low and sleepy. His brother turned and smiled at him, too fuckin’ ridiculously awake for this early in the morning. “What are you doing here?”

Sam’s face fell. “Heard the news about Dauntless. I was so scared Dean, jesus, I knew there was no way those serums would work on Divergents and I thought you were a goner. But you’re alright, thank god.” He chuckled. “More than alright, it looks like.”

Dean pointed a finger at him. “You shut your mouth.”

“So that’s Cas, huh?”

“That’s Cas,” Dean nodded. He’d mentioned him a couple of times, when they’d had a few minutes on the phone together, hurriedly checking up on each other, but that was it.

“You guys look happy together,” Sam said, and Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, okay, you big creep.” Dean pushed at his brother’s shoulder. “You make breakfast or something? Or did you just come here to steal my food?”

Sam sighed. “I’ll make you an egg.”

“Make one for Cas, too. He gets grumpy when he’s hungry. The worst was when we had training before breakfast. He would fucking slaughter everyone.”

Sam laughed, and went to work at the stove. The swapped stories back and forth, Dean hanging onto Sam’s every word about the amazing library Erudite had and Sam listening to Dean talk about the serums and Tessa and all the shit that had gone down yesterday. Cas walked in halfway through Dean’s story about Charlie’s mishap with a rogue hair dryer. He looked understandably tired, his hair screwed to hell, and Dean smiled up at him from the kitchen table. Cas smiled back and the world kinda fell away.

“Good morning,” Cas said, eyes darting from Dean to Sam as he rubbed a hand through his hair.

“Here’s an egg,” Dean said, stupidly, holding out Cas’s plate towards him. Cas looked at him like he was a weirdo, rightly so, but it was Cas’s fault for looking damn good and distracting in the morning.

Sam and Cas laughed at him, and that’s when Dean knew it was over, knew he was totally screwed, he didn’t stand a chance if those two teamed up against him. Dean raised his eyebrows at them and handed Cas the egg.

“I’m Sam,” his brother said, holding out his hand towards Cas. Cas took it and smiled at him.

“Cas. Nice to meet you.”

They ate in a funny sort of a silence - a relieved silence, a tired silence - chewing slowly on their eggs at the kitchen table. Dean let his eyes scan over Sam as they ate, making sure he looked healthy, and he did, maybe even a little taller, if that was possible. It felt so right, to have Sam back in their house. Cas fit right in too, he filled this little hole in Dean’s life that he hadn’t known he was missing. The fight wasn’t over yet, but Dean has his brother on one side and Cas on the other, and his best friends were coming to visit that afternoon, and it didn’t matter if they still had a long way to go. Dean knew they’d figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> title from _[crush](http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/1014264-with-this-bullet-lodged-in-my-chest-covered-with-your)_ by richard siken


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